Ain't no Rest for the Wicked
by Isabella387
Summary: Humanized AU Noir, Penguin Ops. is the best detective agency in the city. When a mobster shows up dead its up to the team to find out who killed him. Rating may change. Skipper centric w/ Skilene. Title taken from the song by Cage the Elephant
1. 1947

Hello everyone! my name is Isabella and I'm kind of new to writing for this topic. However, I am in no way new to writing. This is my third serious story on the site. My story that I have just finished is entitled The Scarlet Line and is the second most popular story in the Spring Awakening catagory. SO anyway, I really hope you enjoy this new story of mine. ALL CHARACTERS ARE HUMANIZED!!!!

I DON'T OWN THIS GENIUS BRAIN CHILD OF TOM MCGRATH!

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_Brrriiiiiing brrriiiiiing brrr-! _James Blake hit the alarm clock sitting on his bed side table before it had the chance to wake anyone else at six am sharp. He ran a hand through his black hair before pulling himself out of bed and walking to his dresser to get ready for the day.

Mr. Blake, or Skipper as he was known as by his friends and colleagues, was a man to be respected. His years in the service had made him a strong willed person who did anything to make sure his goals were attained. On his dresser top stood an old black and white picture of him and his boys. His best friends from the service. The boys he could always count on, and could still count on.

All four of them worked together now at their own agency; investigatory agency that is. Penguin Operations Incorporated, second floor, apartment four, right on the corner of Central Park West and West 61st street, New York City, New York. They had saved up for years to buy the old office, but it had been worth it in the end.

Skipper fastened his tie in the mirror when someone else in the apartment awoke.

"Skip, why do you have to get up so early?" Marlene yawned, wrapping her silk robe around her night dress.

"I have to get down to the agency," Skipper said with a smile, grabbing his hat. He pulled her to him and quickly kissed her, "I'll be back by six."

"Alright," She said as he began to walk out the door, "Try not to get yourself killed." He smiled.

"I'll try." And with that the door shut.

Skipper and Marlene had been engaged now for two months, due to be married that coming spring. Marlene was a kind woman with a will strong enough to match that of her fiancé's, yet still remained perfectly cute and naïve in Skipper's eyes. Her short stature, standing at a petite five foot three inches did nothing to temper that will what so ever. She watched out the window with warm brown eyes as skipper walked down the street, smiling to herself, wondering how she could have been so lucky.

Skipper unlocked the door to the small office and flipped on the light. Four desks stood vacant of actual people, but what lay on the desks were as different as the men who worked them. Skipper put his things down on his well organized desk near the back of the room, where he could sit and do his work while supervising the rest of the boys. He flipped through some of the files from the day before when the phone rang.

"Penguin Operations, this is James Blake speaking." A deep voice answered him over the phone.

"Hello Skipper."

"Officer X," Skipper said, lounging back in his chair, resting his feet up on top of the desk, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"How quickly can you get down to 113 South Lexington in Brooklyn?"

"You want to tell me exactly why I need to get down there?"

"We have another murder, the land lady won't talk to us," Skipper put his head in his hand and sighed.

"Try and see what you can get out of her, I'll be right down once the boys get here."

"Fine, we'll wait." Skipper heard the phone slam down and the busy tone before hanging up his own phone. As soon as he set the phone down, his second in command, Eli Kowalski came barging through the door with a large box, overflowing with God knows what for some new invention.

Eli Kowalski was the tallest of the four, standing a lengthy six foot two and by far the most intelligent. Although Skipper had street smarts beyond compare, Kowalski was the only one to turn to for scientific analysis. Kowalski's background in the newly emerging nuclear physics and radar from the war had left him a man with intelligence far beyond compare. Where natural style lacked, brains filled in.

"Morning, sir," Kowalski said, putting down the large cardboard box onto his blue print littered desk. Skipper looked at the pile of seemingly useless junk apprehensively.

"Uh, Kowalski?" he asked pointing to the box. Kowalski looked back down at the box.

"Oh this stuff? Skipper nodded, "It's nothing, just some things for my new invention!" He excitedly tossed a blue print at Skipper. Skipper turned the blue paper several directions before looking back at Kowalski who was rifling through his box of stuff.

"That's great Kowalski… uh… what is it?" He did not look up from the box.

"I have no idea, but I'll figure it out sooner or later." He reassured. Skipper rolled the blue print back up and tossed back at his second in command just as their third team member, Rico Flintlock, came through the door.

Rico was never much of a talker. Previous injuries from the war and defects from birth had left his vocal cords trashed and left Rico unable to speak. Well, almost. Rico could still rasp out a few words when he tried, but other than that it was nearly impossible for the man to utter a cohesive sentence. Rico was a burly looking man, with a scar on the left side of his face from the accident that had left him literally speechless. His sheer brute force and sometimes loose cannon tactics had led him to be the team's arsenal specialist. But he was not without a heart. Like Skipper, he too had someone in his life. Carlotta, a blond woman from Spain, had captured it back when they were serving on the French-Spanish boarder. She had moved out to be with Rico soon after the war ended and had stayed with him ever since.

"Morning Rico," Kowalski said, not looking up from his blue prints, rifling through the box. Rico grunted what little response he could. Skipper looked at Rico and gave a nod instead of a vocal greeting, Rico returned it and sat down at his desk, pulling an old antique revolver out of his brief case and began to fiddle with it. He was convinced he could make it work again.

Skipper looked at the clock hanging above the door. He had to get the boys down to the crime scene, but they were one solider short. Skipper decided they couldn't wait any longer.

"Men, Officer X called." Rico put his head onto his desk and groaned in annoyance.

"I concur with Rico, Officer X always calls. What makes this any different than the other three hundred and forty-one calls he's left us before?"

"Murder case," Skipper said. Rico looked up, suddenly interested in the topic, "Says the landlady won't tell him anything, he needs us to get down there as soon as we can to knock some sense into her." Rico pounded a fist into his hand with a violent smile on his face. Kowalski gripped the bridge of his nose and pinched his eyes shut.

"He meant figuratively, Rico." Rico gave a groan of disappointment.

"Good then, well let's move out." Skipper said grabbing his coat.

"But, we're missing Private," Kowalski pointed out. Skipper did not hesitate putting on his hat and opening the door.

"Don't have time to wait for him. Rico, leave Private a note and meet us at the curb." Just as Skipper began to walk out be ran smack into the youngest member of the team.

"I am so sorry, Skippah" young Peter Barry, Private, said. Peter was the by far the youngest of the group, entering the service at the young age of nineteen in the British Navy. He met the team when they all began to serve in the north of France and came to New York as soon as the war ended. Despite all the team had been through during the war, he still held an air of innocence about him. He stood at a short five foot four with coal black hair and bright blue eyes that made him look still child-like. Private had an amazing talent for seeing things that the others usually didn't see. Although when he failed to see the obvious is when he earned a swift slap on the back of the head from his leader. It wasn't that Skipper wasn't fond of the boy; he just didn't have any time for slow thinking. Private began to walk past Skipper into the office before Skipper held out an arm and pushed him back.

"Don't bother, we have work to do."

"Work, sir?"

"Ah yes," began Kowalski, "Officer X called in… again."

"Uh huh!" said Rico

"Officer X? The crack-pot cop? What does he want?"

"This is serious Private! It's a murder case." The color drained from Private's face. He was quite squeamish.

"M-murder? Who?" Skipper slapped his hand to his forehead.

"I don't know, but we're wasting time!" Skipper pushed passed Private, the men followed him quickly.

South Lexington was not a street you wanted to be caught on during the night. No where The New York neighborhood was littered with drug dealers, mobsters, and the lowest crawls of life the city had to offer. A law enforcement officer's paradise.

Police cars crowded the street around the apartment building, however the police seemed to be lounging around, waiting for something, or someone. Officer X stood lounging against the hood of his car picking at his nails for non-existent dirt when he heard Skipper loudly clear his throat.

"It's about damn time you boys showed up." he scolded.

"Well we're sorry, we didn't know the lazy brigade was handling this operation or we would have shown up earlier." Skipper retorted with heavy amounts of sarcasm. Officer X shot him an angry glare from behind his sun glasses and motioned for the four agents to follow him.

The crime scene had barely been touched since the police had gotten there, but it was obvious that a fight had gone down between the killer and the victim. Bed sheets torn from the bed, table over turned, broken beer bottles on the floor, and bullet holes in the wall.

"Any idea who it was?" Skipper asked as the five stood in the door way. Officer X handed a file to Kowalski, containing some of the crime information.

"Ah, interesting." Kowalski said with almost disbelief reading through the file, "Vincent 'Mad Rat' Riatonni, sir." Skipper now looked at Kowalski.

"_Him_? I thought no one would ever cross that crazy mobster."

"Apparently somebody did," Private said quietly, staring that bullet holes left in the wall.

"Right," Skipper said tearing the file from Kowalski's hands studying it and suddenly slamming it shut, "Rico, I need you to indentify the type of gun used by the killer. Kowalski, examine the body, attempt to determine the cause of death. Private, look for clues." The team dispersed to their designated areas as Skipper walked the apartment alone.

The apartment was a little dingy, but not under furnished. Riatonni was a mob boss after all, those funds obviously went somewhere. The yellow stripped paper on the walls and white carpet that had seen better days gave the apartment a cheerier tone than the other homes Skipper had seen. Each room was furnished with elaborate cherry furniture. As Skipper walked into the bed room he saw Kowalski kneeling over the body.

"Well?"

"Cause of death was fairly easy to identify," Kowalski said pointing to the dead mobster's head, "Death by gunshot." Skipper nodded.

"Ok, see if there was any struggle before death," Kowalski looked around.

"Shouldn't be too difficult, sir," Kowalski said before opening his brief case taking out a pair of rubber gloves. Skipper turned around and spotted a picture frame on the mobster's dresser.

It was obviously a wedding picture. Riatonni was standing in his typical tuxedo, holding a young beautiful bride close. She had light hair standing with an innocent look on her face. She was dressed in a modest white wedding gown, holding what looked to be roses. Suddenly someone tapped Skipper on his shoulder. He turned around quickly and came face to face with Officer X, who was holding an ugly looking woman with red hair by the arm.

"This is the land lady I needed you to talk to," The woman pushed X off of her.

"Don't touch me!" She said sassily.

"And this is…" Skipper said acknowledging the woman.

"Alice." She said, her arms folded against her ugly yellow dress.

"Right, well Alice I need to ask you a few questions. If you would come with me, please." Alice begrudgingly followed the head detective. They sat down at the kitchen table and Skipper pulled out the notepad.

"So, could you please tell me what happened the night in question?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Because if you don't you could be prosecuted for harboring valuable information from a law enforcement official." Alice opened her eyes and looked at Skipper.

"You can't arrest me for that," She said smugly, calling his bluff.

"No, I can however arrest you for forty-eight hours without reason." And with that she began to retell the events of that night.

"Well, I remember Riatonni coming back to the complex from a night out with his boys. He was obviously drunk, I mean I could tell. I know everything that goes on in this place, _everything_. He stumbled upstairs and went into his apartment. It was pretty quiet for a while, but then I heard gunshots and yelling."

"How many gunshots?"

"Five, followed by some mumbled talking and one more gunshot. I saw a couple of people leave the place then I saw Katrina come back in and-"

"Katrina?"

"His wife. Pretty little thing from Massachusetts. They were married a couple years ago. Anyway, she came back and I heard her scream. I ran upstairs and there he was, on the ground, dead. Is that all you need? Cause this is kind of wasting my time." Skipper finished his notes.

"Almost, where is this Katrina?"

"Staying at her parent's house I suppose."

"Any clue what she does for a living?"

"She doesn't work. Tried to be an actress a few times, but it never really worked out for her." Skipper finished up his notes, closing the notepad, looking at Alice.

"Well thank you, Alice. That will be all." The woman got up and left the apartment in a huff.

"She seemed pleasant." Private said standing next to Skipper.

"Yea, about as pleasant as playing leap frog with a unicorn, Private." Skipper pocketed his notepad, "Did you find anything?" Private nodded and put several things down on the table in front of Skipper. A small pouch of white powder, a ring, a business card, and a ripped piece of silk.

"This is all I could find, or that the police would let me take, Skippah." Skipper picked up the small bag of powder and gave Private a look.

"Well, now at least we know why he was mad," Skipper put the powdered drug back down onto the table and picked up the ring.

"I think it's his wedding ring sir." _Why would he take this off?_ Skipper thought as he put it back down and picked up the beaten up business card.

"What on earth is this?" He said looking at the business card depicting a woman in rather racy clothes.

"Not sure, Skippah, found it in the coat pocket of one of his suits in his closet, but look on the back." On the back was another picture and phone number for the Lemur Bar and Club in the Bronx.

"Dual card," Skipper said looking at piece of paper. Private nodded. Skipper picked up the last bit of evidence, the piece of silk, "Does this belong to any of the clothes in the closet?"

"No sir, I checked everything. Kowalski actually gave it to me; he found it in Riatonni's hand." Skipper examined the piece of cloth. It was definitely silk, high end silk too. Not very common around this part of town. Its purple color gave it a hint of elegance. It could belong to any thing; a tie, a dress, a nice shirt. Skipper replaced the purple silk onto the table and looked at Private who had begun to place the evidence into the brief case.

"Well then, we should probably head back to HQ, get Rico and Kowalski and let's start figuring this case out."

The boys got back to HQ at around five o'clock at night, but they had a surprise waiting for them in their office. As Skipper came to the door he discovered that it was unlocked, the light inside had been left on.

"I thought I told you to lock the place up Kowalski!" Skipper said looking angrily at Kowalski.

"You did not tell me to lock up."

"Regardless, why didn't you?"

"We seemed in a rush?" Kowalski offered, but then sighed in defeat, "I'm sorry."

"Don't let it happen again." Rico patted Kowalski on the back and followed Private and Skipper into the office. All four were a little taken back by what they saw. A woman was sitting on Skipper's desk looking through the files he had left there. She had short blond hair, styled into a Marilyn Monroe-esque hairstyle that framed her face. Her emerald eyes flicked over the files and then looked up to see the boys. She stood up on her silvery shoes, flustered.

"Oh hello, are you the detectives I needed to talk to?" She said innocently. She was dressed in a simple grey silk dress with black buttons. On her head she wore a small grey hat with black netting covering part of her face.

"Depends," Skipper started, "Who are you?"

"Oh yes, I'm sorry I forgot to introduce myself," She held out a gloved hand, "My name is Katrina Riatonni." Skipper warily shook her hand, "Are you the group of detectives who are covering my husband's murder?"

"That we are miss. My name is James Blake and these are my co-detectives, Eli Kowalski, Rico Flintlock, and Peter Barry." She shook each of their hands, "May I ask why you weren't at the crime scene today?"  
"Forgive me, I am still mourning the loss of my husband," She said quite seriously, "I did not feel like facing the police or their questions."

"So why are you here?"

"I needed to meet the people who are going to be responsible for bringing this killer to justice," She smiled, "I'm sorry, the door was open and I thought I'd just wait for you to come back." Skipper rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.

"Well we were going to be heading home now, could we please talk to you tomorrow ?"

"Oh please," She said shooting Skipper a sultry look, "call me Katrina."

"Katrina then, may we meet with you tomorrow?"

"Of course," She picked her purse off of the table, "I will see you tomorrow then Mr. Blake." She walked past Skipper and the rest of the boys shyly. She jumped into a yellow cab. Rico whistled as the cab drove away, Kowalski slapped him in the back of the head.

"You have a girlfriend, remember?" Rico shrugged and walked inside the office. Skipper and Private stood alone on the stoop.

"_She_ was Mad Rat's wife?"

"Well, he certainly knows how to pick 'em" Skipper began to walk inside but Private held him back.

"Skippah, there was something off about her."

"How so, Private?"

"I'm not sure Skippah, there was just something off…"

"She's in mourning Private; she's going to be a little off." And with that Skipper walked off. Private stood alone, staring in the way which Katrina had left in.

"I still don't trust her," The britt said quietly before following in his leader's footsteps.

The year was 1947. Jackie Robinson had broken the color barrier in the Major Leauge Baseball. The first four engine jet had been tested. World War II treaties had finally been signed. And a murder had been commited in New York City.

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I truly hope you enjoyed that. please R&R! incase you didn't know, Riatonni is the Rat King in human form. I am going to have a contest during this story. You will get a point for every question you get right and this will last till about... chapter four I guess. The person with the highest score gets a cameo of their very own character put into the story.

Question 1 (worth 4 points): Who/what were the inspirations for Skipper, Private, Kowalski, and Rico's names?

Question 2 (worth 1 point): What famous mobster shares a similar mob name with Riatonni?

Question 3 (worth 1 point): What event happened in Madagascar during this year?

So Review! Send me your answers via a private message or email! Love you all!


	2. The List

OK! So this story is doing pretty well in my eyes so far! For the trivia competition, Halfhuman is winning. SO GET YOUR ANSWERS IN!!!!!!!! anyway, here's chapter two! enjoy!

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Skipper came home that night exhausted by the day's activities. He flopped down on the couch and put his hat over his face in an attempt to rest, only to have it be pulled off by Marlene who stood over him smiling.

"Well somebody's tired."

"I had a very long day, Marlene," Skipper said trying to grab his hat back without getting up off the couch.

"How so?"

"Insufferable police officer's and dead mobsters to start off with," He said as Marlene once again moved the hat out of his reach, forcing Skipper to get up.

"Dead mobsters? Who?" Marlene said backing up, the hat behind her back.

"Riatonni," Skipper said trying to make a lunge for the hat, but Marlene was too quick.

"Really, Riatonni? I thought that man would live forever," She moving to the other side of Skipper.

"No one is immortal, Marlene," He said making another failed grab for his hat, "Oh for the love of Gandhi! Would you give me my hat back?" Marlene pretended to think about it for a while.

"hmmmmm… Nope," Skipper lunged at her, pinning her to the floor and taking his hat back by force, "Do you always have to use those tactics?" Marlene complained irritably.

"Only with you," He said kissing her, "Only with you." Then the phone rang. Skipper groaned and got up to answer it, "Hello?" he said as Marlene got up and dusted off her skirt.

"I'll go make some dinner," She whispered to him kissing him on the cheek before heading to the kitchen. Skipper smiled but then a low voice came over the answering tone.

"Skipper?" the voice had a heavy Brooklyn accent.

"Who is this?"

"For da moment, ya don't need ta worry. Just find da wise anchor who killed Mad Rat and ya won't have ta worry 'bout your pretty little girlfriend," Skipper looked worried at Marlene who had begun to make dinner.

"Is that a threat?" He said forcefully into the receiver.

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Just find da guy and you won't have ta worry. I just want some justice for a fallen friend, ya know?"

"Do you have any idea who did it?" there was a pause on the other end.

"Personally I'd check with Moon Cat O'Mally, druggie got in a lot o' trouble for not getting money from Mad Rad for his, um, merchandise. Just make sure you figure out who did it, or we's won't hesitate to make every ting ya cares about disappear." Skipper finished writing down the name on his notepad.

"I'll make sure of it," All Skipper got was a busy signal; he hung up his phone and put his head into his hands.

"Skip? Who was that?" he heard Marlene call from the kitchen.

"Just Officer X," He lied, "He got some more information on the case."

"Well that's good."

"Yea, but I still have to question someone tomorrow," he said wandering into the kitchen.

"Really?" Marlene said standing on her tiptoes looking through the spice cabinet, "Who?"

"Riatonni's wife, Katrina."

"You think she did it?"

"No, she has an alibi," Skipper leaned over to taste the pasta sauce Marlene was making; she slapped him on the back of the hand.

"Get out of here, it's not ready yet!" Skipper smiled and walked out of the kitchen into the bedroom where he put his hands into his heads. He thought about the phone call, about the day, about Marlene. There was no way that he was going to get any sleep that night.

Skipper walked back into the office the next morning looking tired. Private and the rest of the boys were already there. Private was attempting to make up for his tardiness yesterday.

"Good morning sir," He then noticed the tired look in Skipper's eyes "Didn't get enough sleep last night?" Skipper shook his head, "Why sir?"

"I got a phone call last night from some unidentified source," Skipper said, he trusted Private enough to tell him this, "They threatened to hurt Marlene if we don't find Mad Rat's killer," Private gasped.

"That's awful!"

"Do you want us to keep surveillance around your apartment, sir?" Kowalski asked.

"Yea! Yea!" Rico said picking up the gun he was working on and pretended to shoot an imaginary mobster imitating the sound of a gunshot.

"Don't worry men, we'll find this murderer and nail him to the wall."

"But we don't even have the faintest idea of who could have done it." Skipper saw a taxi pull up outside. He saw the blond woman get out, her grey attire of yesterday replaced with a checkered skirt and black top.

"True Private, we don't." He walked over to the window, "But I bet we know someone who does."

Kowalski took the voice recorder out of a desk and threaded the magnetic tape around the spools of the recorder as Katrina walked into the room.

"Hello Mr. Blake, boys" She said nodding to Rico and Kowalski who were sitting at the same desk as Kowalski.

"Hello Mrs. Riatonni," Kowalski said without looking up from his work, Rico simply nodded, and Private did nothing but examine the look on her face.

"You don't mind if we use a recorder to document this interview do you?"Skipper asked showing her to a seat in front of the desk.

"Not at all," Private could have sworn she saw the slightest amount of uncertainty in her eyes. He crossed his arms and slumped back into his chair. Kowalski finally got the magnetic tape strung through the bulky recorder and hit record.

"For the record could you please state your full name and your relation to the victim?" Kowaski began, verbally marking the tape.

"Katrina Bonnie Gudrun Riatonni, I was Vincent Riatonni's wife." She folded her hands into her lap.

"Mrs. Riatonni," Skipper began to question, "Could you please tell us what exactly you were doing the night of your husband's murder?"

"I was at a party at my friend's house."

"Could you please state the name of your friend?" Private asked quickly.

"Lulu Maria Barker."

"What exactly were you doing at Mrs. Barker's home?"

"She's pregnant. She was having a baby shower." She smiled. Rico was writing down jostled notes, Kowalski had headphones on making sure the recording was clear, and Skipper began to question further.

"Can you take us through your actions following the baby shower?" Katrina looked down to her lap, as if feigning tears.

"You must forgive me," She said quietly, "It's not a night I would like to remember."

"Please Ms. Riatonni, we need this information." Skipper said with dead seriousness, thinking back to Marlene.

"Of course," She said dabbing her eyes with a small cloth she pulled out of her purse. She took a deep breath and began to tell what happened, "I came out of the Barker residence and called a taxi to take me home. The taxi pulled up to the apartment and I walked up the stairs to my apartment, taking out my keys, but there was something wrong. The door's handle had been kicked off and the door was open. I didn't know what to think about this at first. I assumed that Vince, my husband whom you know as Mad Rat, was drinking again and couldn't find his keys, so he kicked the door in. I walked into the room and called his name, I didn't get a response. So I thought he might be asleep. I called louder to make sure he was there, but I still didn't get an answer. As I walked into our living room I saw the coffee table turned over and-and bullet holes in the walls! My heart rate quickened and I ran to the bed room because he was nowhere else in the house part of me hoped that he simply had a scuffle with someone and chased them out of the house but-" She paused, the tears in her eyes, "but as I came into the bedroom I saw that my hopes had not been correct and there he was- on the floor- there was blood everywhere and-and I screamed, I mean I didn't know what else to do I-" she broke down crying into her handkerchief. Skipper passed her a Kleenex box. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she tried to recompose herself, "That's when Alice, our landlady, came into the room. She called the police. When they came they began to question me but I- I couldn't answer their questions. A very kind officer, Officer X I believe was his name was, he drove me to my parent's house, where I'm currently staying. I haven't been back to the apartment since that night." She wiped her smearing mascara onto the cloth.

"Is there anything you can tell us about your husband? Anything that might point to his killer?"

"Um- He was a very strong willed man as you could probably tell," she smiled, "And he was good to me. We had our problems at times-"

"Problems? Such as?"

"Well his um- drug problem. I never approved of it. He went to this club every Friday, I forget what it was called."

"The Lemur?" Kowalski offered.

"Yes, that's it, The Lemur. He was quite good friends with the owner apparently, but he would come home at times muttering about the greedy man and about his booze bill."

"Man was a drunk." Skipper said almost to himself.

"Oh I wouldn't say that. He just liked to have a good time, but that almost ended our marriage as well. I uh- caught him with several other women on several occasions."

"And you didn't end your marriage because…?"

"Because I feel that anyone can arise over marginal problems if they are truly in love." She looked Skipper directly in the eye and smiled. He looked down and thought once more about Marlene, "I trusted him enough to overcome that small issue. What else is there, oh yes, he was quite the fan of boxing."

"Boxing?"

"Yes, went to a match in the underground every few weeks."

"Was your husband a gambler?"

"He occasionally bet money on the outcome of a match, but not that often, I believe."

"What of his meetings with his members?"

"You obviously don't know too much about how the system works, Mr. Blake," She said sitting up straight, "The men talk among themselves, they have their meetings other places as well as in their own homes. Women stay in the kitchen. They don't want us to worry about their affairs. I have many great friends who are also wives of those men in the same um, position, as my husband."

"Is Mrs. Barker one of those people?"

"What? Of course not," She said with a laugh, "Lulu is married to quite a successful business man, on the Upper East Side."

"Then how do you know Mrs. Barker?"

"Why we grew up together, back in Cambridge. She was born in England, but her parents moved her out here back in 1929."  
"Risky time to move," Private said warily.

"Well Lulu's family is not one for safeties." She said with another smile that put Private off.

"Mrs. Riatonni, are there any other people who would have the intentions of murdering your husband?"

"I can't think of anyone. We have been on peaceful terms with many of the other business ventures in our area as well as the outlying Manhattan and Queens areas for quite some time. The last threat issued to my husband's business ventures was back in the winter of '46." Rico jotted down the note and then nodded at Skipper.

"Thank you very much for your time ." Kowalski hit the stop button on the recorder and cut the magnetic tape. He labeled the reel as _Katrina Riatonni_. Skipper stood up.

"I'll walk you to the door." He said. Katrina stood up as well tucking the handkerchief back into her purse; Private caught the monogram in the corner.

"J. A.?" He questioned motioning to the piece of cloth. Katrina looked down at it, "I thought your initials were K.R.?"

"Oh, this is my mother's." Katrina said opening the handkerchief so the rest of the team could see.

"And what is your mother's name?"

"Her maiden name was Jenifer Applegate." Katrina said firmly. Private slumped back into his seat again and nodded, "Well it was nice to see you boys again." She said before following Skipper to the door, "Mr. Blake there is one more thing I would like to give to you," Katrina said handing a small leather journal to Skipper, "This is Vince's journal. He wrote in it quite frequently. I hope it helps with the case."Skipper took the small book and opened the door for Katrina. She walked out without another word but not without another smile to the team's leader. Skipper shut the door behind her and went back to the desk.

"Alright boys," Skipper said pulling a chair up to the desk, "We need suspects and we need them now. Rico, did you find out what the murder weapon was?"

"Yea Yea!" Rico rasped out jotting down the name of a gun, Skipper looked at it.

"A colt .22 revolver? Are you sure?"

"Uh huh." Rico pulled two bullet shells out of his coat pocket and put them on the table. Kowalski examined one of the shells.

"It seems he would be correct, Skipper."

"Okay, so we know the murder weapon."

"No all we have do to is find it!" Private said enthusiastically.

"No, we have to find the killer first." Skipper corrected, "The weapon is what's going to secure the killer." Skipper leaned back in the chair keeping the little black journal in his hand.

"What we need now are suspects," Kowalski said taking the notepad from Rico.

"Right, any ideas boys?"

"Well, Katrina said that her husband got in some trouble with the owner of that night club."  
"Julien Vikarma," Kowalski filled in writing down the name on the notepad. Skipper looked at him surprised.

"You know him?" Kowalski shook his head.

"I've heard of him, he's quite infamous on the west side for his dace parties that he hosts at the club." Skipper nodded, "Mrs. Riatonni did say that her husband hadn't paid Julien in a long time."

"But would that really push him to murder?" Skipper questioned.

"It could, they say Julien is about as crazy as mad hatter."

"Anybody else?"

"What about those women she caught him with," Private offered.

"Insane we wouldn't know where to find them for questioning," Kowalski stated, "Besides I don't think they would go as far as wanting to kill him."

"But, if it was a continual affair, they might become jealous." Skipper pointed out.

"Wouldn't they want to kill Katrina then?" Private said.

"Katrina wasn't the one who broke their heart." Kowalski said.

"Precisely," Skipper picked up the dual business card, "I think we'd know where to find them, too."

"Boxing." Rico mentioned to rasp out.

"Rico's right," Private began, "We should check the boxing ring."

"Or with the boxing ring bosses." Skipper said half to himself.

"Boxing ring bosses?" Private said.

"I've been to the ring before," Skipper said, "Bada and Bing are the two guys who control the gambling side to boxing there. Mad Rat could have cheated them out of money, reason enough for them to be angry."

"Over a boxing game?" Said Private with a smile, thinking the reason for the murder to be a little superfluous.

"Trust me, underground boxing is a serious matter, Private. If you cheat someone out of money, you are in trouble." Private's face went pale.

"Remind me never to get into underground boxing." He said quietly.

"That's only three possible suspects, sir," Kowalski said looking over his notes.

"Put down one more name, Kowalski."

"Who?"

"Someone named Moon Cat O'Mally."

"Moon Cat O'Mally? Where do you pull that name out of?" Private said.

"I got a tip from someone. He was the dealer that gave Riatonni his supply." Kowalski nodded and added the name to the notepad. He tore the piece of paper off the front and stuck it to the bulletin board situated in the back of the room.

"Alright men, we've got four suspects. Let's figure this out."

"We can confront tomorrow night," Skipper said putting his coat on, "Bring your dancing shoes boys." Skipper closed the door behind him. Private looked at Kowalski.

"I thought Skipper didn't like dancing," he said, Kowalski looked down at Private.

"It's a figure of speech, Private. He needs us to blend in with the crowd so if we need to dance to fit in we must dance." Kowalski grabbed his coat, "see you boys tomorrow." He closed the door leaving Private and Rico alone in the room.

"Skipper's got a dancer hidden deep inside him doesn't he?" Private asked. Rico shrugged.

Skipper sat alone in his bed that night with the small black journal in his hand. He looked over the smooth leather surface, noticing it was blank of any markings. He opened it and scanned the page.

_January Sixteenth, 1947_

_Mich came by today to pick up the goods. I don't know how long this rookie_

_is going to last. He's been having too many moral issues when I ask him to_

_do a job. If he can't toughen up soon he's not going to make it very far. And _

_he's got that little girlfriend of his, too. It'd be a shame if he couldn't keep her._

_Katrina is worrying too much about me. I had another meeting with Max and _

_brought home some more pills. She freaked out, said I was going to kill _

_myself if I kept it up. But it's the only way I can relax in these stressful times._

_It doesn't help that I think she's catching onto me and Doris. If she caught us_

_I don't think that we could last much longer._

Skipper heard the bedroom door open, he quickly shut the book and set it on his bedside table. It was Marlene.

"What are you reading?" She said scooting close to him.

"Nothing you need to worry about," he said kissing her forehead, holding her close. He tried to hide his worry. Since the phone call from yesterday, he had been stricken with fear, though he refused to let it on. But Marlene knew him better than that.

"What's wrong, James?" She never used his first name unless she was serious.

"What? Nothing's wrong."

"Yes," She leaned back from him, "You always tell me I don't need to worry about anything when there's a problem." Skipper sighed in defeat.

"The person who called last night was making empty threats."

"Empty threats?" She said sarcastically, "Skip, no threat is an empty one. What were they threatening?" She looked at him with her big brown eyes. Skipper didn't know what to do, so he told the truth.

"Someone was threatening to hurt you if I didn't find Mad Rat's killer," He said holding her close again. Marlene was shocked to silence, "But I won't let them get to you. I promise. I'm going to find this killer. I'm going to make sure you're safe." He kissed her forehead, she still had not said a word, "We're going to be ok."

"Skip, how-how could you not tell me about this?" She said pulling away from him with a shocked look on her face.

"I didn't want you to worry or be scared," he said grabbing her hand as she was standing up pulling her back down, "Marlene I swear I will always protect you." He said with dead seriousness. Marlene sat back down on the bed.

"I know," She said shyly, "But you have to be honest with me, even if you want to protect me." She scooted closer to him.

"Fine," Skipper said sweetly.

"You're not going to do it are you."

"Unless it's dire for you to know, no." Marlene hit him playfully on the arm, making him laugh.

* * *

well I hope you enjoyed that! now here's the questions for this chapter:

(worth 1 point) 1. What does Julien's last name mean?

(Worth 1 point) 2. Lulu shares the same last name as what Steven Sondheim musical character?

(worth 2 points) 3. the voice actor who plays Rico also plays what other famous animated robot?

So there we are! Please answer the questions! at least try. also and more importantly, R&R! Love you guys!


	3. The Club

RAWR CHAPTER 3! Yea... this took me a while to write.... ANYWAYZ! Please enjoy this following chapter! Still in the lead for the competition is Halfhuman! GET YO ANSWERS IN!

* * *

Skipper stood in the bathroom, fixing his tie. He spotted Marlene standing in the door frame watching him.

"Where are you going tonight," She asked looking at him in the mirror; Skipper looked out of the corner of his eye.

"We're going to interrogate a suspect in the Riatonni murder."

"You look a little dressy to be interrogating a suspect, Skip."

"He's the owner of some dance club down in the Bronx."

"What's it called?"

"The Lemur." Marlene laughed.

"What kind of name for a club is that?" she said through giggles. Skipper shrugged, smiling a bit.

"They say the owner's crazy, so I assume he named it." He finally finished fixing his tie and turned around, "How do I look?" He said facing Marlene. She smiled and put her arms around his neck.

"Like a million bucks." She gave him a little kiss. Skipper looked at the clock in the bedroom.

"Shit I'm late!" He said grabbing a coat. Marlene dropped her arms to her side and laughed. Skipper turned around and smiled at her.  
"Go! Your subjects need you, Mr. King of the Clock." He kissed her one more time

"I love you," He said pulling away, grabbing his hat, "And the sarcasm is not appreciated, Missy." He said, pointing a finger at her, making her laugh again.

"Go!" She said motioning for him to get out. He shut the door behind him.

Skipper's taxi pulled up in front of the club. The neon sign glowed in the night like fire in a dark forest, a dark forest whose front was littered with social trash. Women, younger than Marlene stood outside dressed in clothing that wouldn't even pass as acceptable in the warm weather of summer, let alone in the cold fall. The headlights of the taxi flashed at a pair of young men talking shiftily near the entrance to an ally and sent them scattering like mice into the dark. Skipper got out of the yellow car and spotted the boys standing off to the side of the entrance. Skipper looked both ways before approaching the boys.

"Looking sharp boys," Skipper said with a smug smile.

"Uh, Skippah," Private said looking nervously at the scantily clad women whispering and pointing at them, "I don't know if I'm really comfortable being here."

"Private, it's perfectly safe here," Kowalski assured. Suddenly the boys heard a gunshot from an ally way close by. All three looked at Kowalski, "Apparently I would be mistaken."

"Should we investigate sir?" Private said, still worried.

"That's not the case we are worried about, Private." Skipper said looking at the neon sign, "We've got bigger fish to fry."

Skipper walked up to the door, the team trailing behind him. Just as he was opening the door a small boy rushed past them, nearly knocking Private over. The boy turned around.

"Sorry!" He said with the slightest accent. He had brown hair hidden by a paper boy hat, from what Skipper could tell. His skin was lightly tan and he had two big brown eyes that seemed to dominate his face. He seemed as if he was in a hurry. Just as quick as he had rushed past, he was gone within the club.

"What on earth…" Private started as he regained his balance.

Skipper pushed opened the door to the club. Their senses were bombarded by loud big band music and warm air laden with cigar smoke. The dance floor was crowded with couples dancing. A few women, dressed a little more conservatively than those outside, stood off to the side, soliciting single men for dances. Skipper only assumed that they worked for the owner. A negro man stood behind the bar making drinks for the many customers. He was a bit burly looking, but he had a kind face. Skipper spotted the little kid again, running behind the bar off to the corner. He pulled up a chair and took papers out of his bag, writing vigorously on them while simultaneously bopping around in his seat to the music, watching the many dancers. Another woman walked around carrying a tray.

"Cigars? Cigarettes?" She called. Kowalski stared at her. She had long wavy blond hair and crystal blue eyes like the ocean. She saw him staring at her and gave a little smile before resuming her sales. Rico snapped his fingers in front of Kowalski's eyes to shake him from his trance and sniggered.

"What?" Kowalski said to Rico, who laughed at him. Rico just shook his head and began walking over to the bar, "What?!" Kowalski called after him, following. The band ended their song with an impressive trumpet flair. Couples broke apart on the dance floor and turned to clap for the band. The conductor stepped forward and spoke into the microphone situated on center stage. Skipper and Private both sat down at the bar.

"Scotch on the rocks please," Skipper said to the bartender who gruffly nodded.

"And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, for your dancing pleasure tonight The Lemur club is proud to present Miss Darla Hicks!" The club erupted into boisterous applause as a woman with very curly red hair stepped onto stage dressed in a beige beaded dress that seemed to glitter under the stage lights surrounded by smoke, giving her the taunt white skin the appearance of almost a ghost. She flashed a smile and signaled to the band, who started up a sultry tune. She leaned into the microphone and began to sing. Couples drifted onto the dance floor.

_You had plenty money, 1922  
You let other women make a fool of you  
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?  
Get out of here and get me some money too  
_

Skipper leaned back on the bar, his eyes drifted over the crowd as if he was looking for someone for something-

"Lookin' for someone?" the bartender asked as he cleaned a glass. Skipper turned around to face him.

"Depends, can you tell me who I'm looking for?" Skipper rested his arms on the bar. The negro man sniggered.

"I know everyone who's ever passed through this place, mister um-"

"James Blake" Skipper said extending a hand to him, the bartender shook it warily._  
_

_You're sittin' there and wonderin' what it's all about  
You ain't got no money, they will put you out  
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?  
Get out of here and get me some money too_

"Maurice," he said, beginning to clean another glass, "So what are you doin' here Mr. Blake?"

"Call me Skipper," he said taking another swig of scotch, "I'm looking for the owner, Mr. Vikarma? I've got a few questions to ask him." Maurice laughed a bit.

"His royal highness," He said with mock eminence, "is over there." Maurice pointed to the dance floor where the owner himself was dancing with a young woman. _  
_

_If you had prepared twenty years ago  
You wouldn't be a-wanderin' from door to door  
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?  
Get out of here and get me some money too_

Skipper was quite shocked; Julien Vikarma looked just a little older than he was. His skin was deeply tanned, foreign born Skipper assumed. His black hair was greased back and he had a large smile on his face as he swung his dance partner around. She had short wavy brown hair and wore bright red lipstick; she too smiled as her dance partner flung her about.

"Not very often he takes a dance partner that don't work for him these days," Maurice said with a laugh. The boy sitting next to him crossed his arms.

"I don't like her," He said with a pout.

"Hush up Mort, Julien only lets you in here if you keep your mouth shut." The boy called Mort uncrossed his arms and once again began working on his papers with a scowl on his face. Skipper almost laughed at him, but instead he turned his attention to Julien and his dance partner.

_  
I fell for your jivin' and I took you in  
Now all you got to offer me's a drink of gin  
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?  
Get out of here and get me some money too  
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?  
Like some other men do_

The place erupted once more into applause. Julien kissed his partner on the cheek and walked her over to a table near the back of the room. Julien called the blond woman Kowalski had been staring at over and picked a cigar out of the box, giving the woman a smile. He then pointed at the bar. She walked over to Maurice.

"I need Julien's usual please, Maurice," She said. Her voice was sweet as honey. Maurice nodded. Skipper looked at her and then at Maurice.

"Oh yea," Maurice said grabbing a bottle of liquor off of the shelf behind him, "Doris, this is Skipper, Skipper this is Doris." Skipper warily shook her hand, wondering where he had heard that name before.

"How long have you been working for Mr. Vikarma?" Skipper asked.

"A couple months now. It's just a cross over job right now," She said with a sad smile. Skipper heard Kowalski clear his throat. Skipper turned around to see the rest of the team looking at him.

"Doris," He said motioning to the rest of the team, "This is my team, Peter Barry, Rico Flintlock, and Eli Kowalski," Kowalski blushed and extended a hand out to Doris.

"It's uh, a pleasure to meet you ma'am." Doris shook his hand with a smile.

"Wait," She said looking at all of them, "Team?" Skipper nodded.

"We're here investigating a murder." Private said, Rico hit him on the back of the head.

"Private?!" Skipper scolded.

"Sorry," Private said apologetically rubbing the back of his head. Doris leaned on the bar.

"Really? Who?" She said suddenly interested. And then Skipper remembered where he had heard her name before. She was the one who had the affair with Riatonni. Another suspect Skipper thought.

"Vincent Riatonni," Skipper said warily, "You know him?" The blood drained from Doris's face.

"I don't know him," She said quickly, "But I know of him." Maurice put a drink on the bar. Doris grabbed it quickly and set it on a tray, "Well it was nice to meet you boys," She said as she turned on her heel and walked back to Julien.

"Maurice?" Skipper asked watching Julien like a hawk, "What would it take to have a little meeting with Mr. Vikarma?" Skipper turned around to face the bartender.

"I'll go ask him, but don't expect nothing."

"That's a double negative!" Kowalski pointed out. Maurice rolled his eyes and walked over to the owner. Julien looked pissed off when Maurice broke him and his dance partner apart but soon his anger seemed to fade into interest. Maurice pointed at Skipper and Julien looked at him then back at Maurice. He nodded.

"He'll talk to you tonight, Skipper," Maurice said walking back behind the bar, "But you might have to wait a while." He said motioning back to Julien who was whispering sweet nothings into his dance partner's ear, she giggled. The band started back up with another swing song. A pair of women came up to Kowalski and Private.

"Well hey there boys," One said with a southern drawl similar to the singer's.

"Would you boys like to dance?" Said the other one. Private and Kowalski looked at Skipper who nodded.

"Might as well have some fun while we're here boys," Skipper stood up and walked over to Doris, "I would like to talk to you for a second," he said.

"I'm on the job right now Mr. Blake," she said disdainfully as she sold another cigar to a patron.

"Then dance with me," She glared at him.

"I don't have anything to tell you." Doris said, walking away. Skipper grabbed her by the arm.

"I think you do, besides, you said you were on the job," She reluctantly put down the tray and followed Skipper to the dance floor. The swing music began to start up and Skipper guided Doris skillfully around the dance floor.

"Hm," She said surprised.

"Hm," She said surprised.

"What?"

"You just don't seem like the dancing type," She said sarcastically.

"I'm not but I need to ask you a few questions," Skipper was careful not to run into any other couples. Little did he know, Julien Vikarma was watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"About what?" Doris said going into another spin.

"Vincent Riatonni."

"I told you, I don't have anything to tell you about him." Skipper gripped her and harder.

"I think you do," She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "I recently came in possession of Riatonni's journal and you are specifically mentioned in it." She nervously followed his lead, "So I would start talking unless you would like to spend a few nights in the county prison."

"My relationship with Vince was not my choice," She whispered harshly.

"I think not."

"I'm serious," She said nervously, "I was forced into it."

"By who?"

"That is none of your business."

"You made it my business." Skipper said with dead seriousness. The song ended and Doris pulled away.

"Can I talk to you after my shift?" She said crossing her arms as if someone was going to hurt her. Skipper nodded and Doris walked away, Skipper then felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and came face to face with Julien Vikarma himself.

"You dance quite impressively," Julien said to Skipper with a smile before extending a hand, "Julien Vikarma, and you are?"

"James Blake." He said seriously. Julien put a finger to his chin.

"Blake," He said tapping his chin, "Now where have I been hearing that name before?"

"My boys and I are detectives Mr. Vikarma, we're here investigating a-" Julien put a hand up to Skipper's face, shushing him as he stared off into space. Then suddenly he snapped his fingers.

"Oh now I know, you are that detective guy I have hearing about in the newsy paper." He said with a smile. Skipper mentally slapped himself; this guy was obviously not intelligent as he had previously thought. Julien whispered something into his dance partner's ear. She pouted and walked off, but not before giving Julien a kiss on the cheek, "I will be talking to you now." He said as he began to walk away, "You follow me now." Julien motioned for Skipper to follow him to a back room.

The back was dark, extra booze lined shelves and a small desk with two chairs was situated near the back of the room. Julien sat down in the comfier looking chair; it was lined with pillows adorned with what Skipper regarded as ridiculous looking fabrics. The back of the chair was carved intricately with what looked like tribal markings. Skipper sat down in the chair across from him and pulled out his note pad.

"Mr. Vikarma do you know why I'm here?"

"Uh, no." Julien said, "But my chunky monkey of a friend told me that you had to talk to me." Skipper pulled a picture of Riatonni and his wife out of his coat pocket.

"Do you know who this man is?" Skipper said pointing to Riatonni.

"Oh Viny!" Julien said with a smile but just as quickly as it came it left, "Why do you think I would be knowing him?" Julien folded his fingers. Skipper shook his head.

"Mr. Vikarma are you aware that Riatonni was murdered earlier this week?" Julien looked surprised.

"I did not."

"Are you aware that you are a suspect in this murder case?" Julien slammed his hands down onto the table.

"Dis is an outrageousness!" He scolded, "Who told you these lies!" He said pointing a finger in Skipper's face.

"That is classified information." Skipper said as calmly as possible, "Mr. Vikarma, if you can tell me what you were doing on Sunday night I can take your name off the list and you would be free to go."

"No jail?"

"No jail." Julien paused for a second.

"Very well," he said sitting back down in the chair, "I was here, of course. Planning for the party I am having on Friday. I also talked to my financial managers and saw that Viny had not been paying his bills. So, I called Viny to have a little chat with him, but he did not call me back! Naturally I was furious! I have been lending him my club for his parties, let him drink what he wanted, let him dance with my women. Even put him in touch with my pill man-"

"Pill man?" Skipper said stopping his note taking.

"Yes… wait no! I mean, uhm, my… doctor yes, my doctor." Julien said quickly Skipper raised an eyebrow at him, "Please do not be arresting me for that Mistah Blake. I have dis club to run and that Darla woman to look out for!"

"Darla? The same Darla that was singing tonight?" Skipper asked

"Yes, she is a witch you know," Julien said with dead seriousness. Skipper looked at him confused and sarcastically.

"A witch?"

"Yes! She casts spells my peoples, she is a witch!"

"You're crazy aren't you?" Skipper said putting down the note pad.

"Oh thank you!" The owner said, "You are the third person who has been telling me that today," Skipper closed his note book and looked at the owner who had a crazy smile on his face.

"I think we're done here Mr. Vikarma, thank you for your time." Skipper walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, amazed that someone could be like that and not have help. He heard Maurice snicker from the bar.

"He's crazy," Maurice said. Skipper walked over to the bar.

"I just need you to clarify his story for me." Skipper said reopening the notepad handing it to Maurice. He looked it over and handed it back to Skipper.

"Yeah, he was here that night, trust me I got stuck with him that night."

"Would you be willing to testify that in court?" Kowalski said coming up behind Skipper, out of breath.

"Out of breath Kowalski?" Skipper teased.

"Girls…won't…leave… me… alone!" Kowalski said through gasps of air. Maurice chuckled.

"I'd be willing to testify if it's necessary. What you'd think I'd lie to you? I'm already working for the craziest man in New York, it's not like it can get much worse. Besides, I know for a fact that Julien doesn't even know how to use a gun, let alone murder someone with it."

Skipper nodded and then turned to Kowalski, "Find Private," He said, "I just need to talk to one more person," Skipper said as he saw Doris take off the tray of cigars and hand it to another woman. Skipper approached her, "Can I talk to you now?" Doris nodded slowly, grabbing her coat.

"Who did you need to talk to Skippah?" Private said coming up behind him outside along with Kowalski and Rico. Skipper gestured to Doris.

"Boys this is Doris, she was one of the women that had an affair with Mr. Riatonni. She claims she knows something about the case." Doris nodded. Kowalski stared at her.

"You have to understand," She pleaded, "I didn't want to do it. But my-my boss, he wanted to try and break up Riatonni's marriage." She said crossing her arms against the fall air, "He had an eye for that Katrina you see, wanted her for himself."

"Then why didn't he kill Riatonni." She shook her head.

"It's not that easy, he can't get his hands on a gun."

"Why is that?" Kowalski asked suspiciously.

"Got caught by the police a couple years back for almost killing another man. No one wants to sell him one because they fear that they'd be the next to go. But I swear I didn't kill Vince," She said with sadness, "I don't think I could bring myself to even hold a gun," She pushed her hair back behind her ear and Skipper caught sight of a bluish mark just below her ear. He grabbed the side of her neck, "What are you doing?!" She said trying to pull back.

"Don't move," He said looking at the mark, "Kowalski, analysis."

"It appears to be a bruise, Skipper." He said, Skipper let go.

"Did your 'boss' give you that?" He asked crossing his arms. Doris grabbed the side of her neck and looked down.

"Maybe," She said quietly. Skipper sighed.

"Care to tell us why your boss would give you such a bruise." Doris did not raise her head.

"He lives in the apartment above me. I did something that he didn't like. It's no big deal," She said quietly. Skipper sighed.

"Do not go back home to your apartment tonight, Doris," He said looking at her seriously, "You will stay at my colleague's house until we can get this case figured out. You are obviously in need of protection."

"Um, Skipper?" Kowalski asked, "Who's house exactly?" Skipper placed a hand on Kowalski's back and pushed him forward.

"Doris I would like you to meet Eli Kowalski, you will stay at his house until we get this figured out." Kowalski stuttered and blushed, Doris smiled at him.

"Uh, Skippah?" Private whispered to him, "Do you think it's a good idea to be doing this?"

"She might have information. If she's in danger, she won't tell us anything." He whispered back.

Doris looked at all four of them and then directly at Kowalski. She smiled.

"Who would have thought," She said.

"Huh?" Rico rasped out.

"Who would have thought strangers could care," She said with a small smile and a hint of hope. Skipper turned around and whistled for a cab, he opened the door.

"Alright, everyone into the cab," Rico sat up front while Doris, Kowalski and Private climbed into the back. Skipper shut the door behind Private who rolled down the window.

"Not coming, sir?"

"I'll catch the next cab. Just make sure Doris gets to a safe location." Skipper said, slapping the back of the cab twice, sending it into motion. Skipper heard laughing from behind him. He turned around to see Darla Hicks leaning up against the wall of the club, smoking a cigarette.

"You're protectin' the wrong people, hun." She said with a deep southern drawl, she took another drag of her cigarette.

"Excuse me?" Skipper said putting his hands into his pockets to protect them from the cold, "Do you know anything about this case?" She shook her head.

"No, but I know when you're lookin at the wrong people." She took a last drag and furiously stomped the cigarette into the ground with the toe of her high heels. Darla leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms, "You honestly think that an insignificant whore is gonna have any information for you?" She said with a smug smile.

"Who says she's a whore?" Skipper asked trying to keep his cool.

"Hun, I've seen her 'other job'," She pointed to a corner, "And that's it." Skipper glared at the red haired woman.

"Why should I trust you? I've heard what people say-" She laughed.

"Darlin' I _know_ what people say about me," she melodramatically began, " 'Oh, Darla Hicks is a witch they say! And she works all alone in the Lemur Club'," She snickered, "I ain't no witch, I just know the truth." Maurice came out of the door and looked at Darla.

"Darla, Julien needs you… again," he said. She rolled her eyes.

"Doesn't he always?" She walked up to Skipper and poked a finger at his chest, "Just remember what I told ya, hun. Think 'bout who ya protectin'." She turned on her heel and walk back into the club with a smile to Maurice, leaving Skipper there alone on the sidewalk.

"Who do you protect when you don't know what you need to protect them from," He said to no one in particular. He whistled for a cab and got in; wondering who to protect, and where to find this boss of Doris's.

* * *

OKY DOKY! First off REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!!!! And now for your questions:

(worth 1 point): What cartoon character was also selling Cigars and Cigarettes in the movie "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?"

(worth 2 points): Who made the song, "Why Don't You Do Right?" Famous?

(worth 5 points): "Darla Hicks is a witch people say, and she works all alone in the Lemur Club," This line has been warped from what play by Zeder?

ANSWER THE QUESTIONS! I loves all of you, thanks for your awesome support!


	4. The Signs

RAWR! Ok, yes, I realize I have not updated this in quite a while. For that I appologize. Blame my acting teacher. the past few weeks were hell weeks and show week. But we're finally done! and so now (many many gaelic words later) I present to you chapter 4! ENJOY! BTW! This is the last chapter I will be posting questions for. So who ever has the most points after this chapter I will be writing their own character into the story... somewhere.... SO ANSWER THE QUESTIONS DAMN IT! I can't believe none of you are actually looking this stuff up online, you don't have to answer them completely on your own. Half human is still winning....

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_February Eighteenth, 1947_

_Mitch is out of the game. He couldn't take it anymore. Got his first threat_

_Call yesterday and completely lost it. He didn't tell me who it was from, but_

_I think I can guess. We're still working out arrangements with Barry and his crew, _

_We really need another ally in the Bronx. I don't know how he has risen to such _

_power in the part of town. He's not the toughest looking guy around, that's for _

_Damn sure. But he's got dirt on almost everybody in the group. It's like poison._

_I had to break it off with Doris. Katrina finally caught us. But I got a call from Doris_

_today. Said she needed to be paid for her services. I didn't even know she charged_

_anything. But she sounded worried, like she was going to get hurt. Katrina made_

_me hang up the phone as soon as she called. Max is unavailable this week._

Skipper closed the book again, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked at the clock, nine-thirty in the morning. Skipper hadn't gotten any sleep that night. He had been up worrying about Marlene, confused about this case; but the thing that kept hitting his mind like fire was the words that the singer had told him, _be careful of who you protect. _Skipper walked quietly over to his dresser and grabbed the notepad off the top. He scribbled the name _Barry _along with the list of the other suspects in the case. Skipper looked at Marlene; she was still asleep, snoring slightly. Skipper smiled at her and quietly walked out into the living room.

He picked up the phone and quietly dialed a number and sat down on the couch. The other end of the line rang one, twice, thr-

"Hello?" Kowalski said on the other end, sounding tired and slightly winded.

"Kowalski it's me."

"Skipper why are you-" there was a pause on the end of the line, "SHIT! Are you calling from the office? I'm sorry skipper I must have-"

"At ease solider," Skipper laughed, calming Kowalski's incessant rambling, "I'm calling everyone. You have the day off, I have paper work I have to take care of."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"

"I'm sure. How's our suspect doing?" Skipper said leaning back on the couch. Kowalski paused.

"Oh she's fine," Kowalski said quickly, "She's actually sleeping right now. . ."

"Kowalski? Is she alright?"

"Skipper, I swear she's fine!" He said quickly.

"You didn't lose her did you?"

"No sir, she's right here-"

"In your bedroom?" Skipper said with a smirk on his face.

". . . how do you know I'm in my bedroom? Maybe I'm in the living room."

"You don't have a phone in your living room Kowalski," Skipper said seriously. Kowalski did not answer.

"What time do you want me to come over, sir?" Kowalski said finally, defeated. Skipper shook his head.

"Just make sure you don't have anything. But as I said, day off solider."

"Yes sir," Kowalski said with a defeated tone.

"Take the girl with you; make sure she gets checked out too."

"Do you need me to call the others, Skipper?"

"No, I'll call them, but Kowalski…"

"Yes sir?"

"I'll have to talk to you later about relationships with suspects when she comes in for interrogating. Do I make myself clear?"

"Transparently, sir."

"Good then, I will speak to you tomorrow about it."

"Talk to you then sir." With that Skipper hung up the phone and felt two arms wrap around him. He tilted his head back to see Marlene standing behind him.

"Well you're up late," She said with a smile.

"I don't have to go to work."

"You don't have to or you don't want to?"

"I still have some paper work, but it can wait." He said with a smile, she bent down and kissed him. She walked around the couch and sat down nest to Skipper.

"Skip, while I have you here there's something I need to talk to you about." Skipper's mind went into immediate panic mode.

"Is there something wrong do I need to-" Marlene laughed and grabbed his hand.

"Calm down solider, nothing's wrong. I was just thinking-" Skipper put his head in his hands.

"Oh god," Marlene hit him on the arm.

"Would you just listen?" Skipper looked up and smiled.

"Ok, fine. What did you need to talk to me about?"

"I was just thinking that maybe," She scooted closer to him, "we could not sleep together till our wedding night." She smiled at him. Skipper tried to smile but his brain was screaming NO! There was a pause from Skipper.

"Uh- sure, I guess. I mean is that what you really want?" Marlene smiled.

"Well think about how romantic it will be when that night comes," She said kissing him again, "Think about it. I'll go make some breakfast," She got up and went to the kitchen leaving Skipper on the couch, stunned. He shook his head to wake himself from the blow and picked up the phone and quickly returned to his work. Private picked up on the other line.

"Hello?" Private said in his typical cheery voice.

"Uh, Private, you have the day off today."

"Skippah? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I just have some paper work to take care of at the office."

"Is there something wrong, sir?"

"What? No, nothing's wrong, why would you think something was wrong?"

"Because I know you, now are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Skipper looked over his shoulder at Marlene who was making breakfast and then turned his attention back to the phone.

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Is it about Marlene?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions solider?" Skipper said getting frustrated.

". . . I'm coming into the office today, and I'm bringing Rico and Kowalski. There's obviously something going on with you."

"No, Private-" Skipper heard a click, "Private?" the dial tone rang in his ears, "Damn it." He hung up the phone.

Marlene and Skipper grabbed their coats as they began walking out of the apartment.

"Do you need a ride to the factory?" Skipper asked her.

"No, I can just call a cab . . . are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Skipper said in the calmest voice he could manage, "I'll see you tonight," He said kissing her forehead. She smiled at him.

"Alright," She walked past him to the stairs, "Just think about what I told you." Skipper internally groaned.

"I will." She checked her watch and ran down the stairs.

"I'll see you tonight!" She called cheerily. Skipper grabbed his hat and followed her down the stairs. He whistled for a cab and hopped into the back. He watched the city streets go by absentmindedly as he thought about what had just happened in the apartment. He wanted Marlene to be happy, sure. But it was the _other_ part of his brain that was mentally kicking himself for telling her he would agree. He outwardly groaned in annoyance. The cab driver looked at him in the rearview mirror.

"Somethin' wrong?" He said Skipper looked at him through the mirror.

"Nothing you need to know about," Skipper said, wary of the random driver.

"That's what my girlfriend keeps telling me. Nothin' I need to worry about. I remember this one time…" Skipper put his head back and settled in for a long cab ride.

Skipper rubbed his temple with his hand. As the office building came into view a wave of relief crashed over him. He looked at his rambling driver, who had not shut up for the entire ride.

"I also heard about this one gal out in the Bronx, my girlfriend told me about she-"

"YOU CAN STOP HERE!" Skipper screamed.

"Alright, no need to be snippy." Skipper threw the money at the cabbie, jumped out of the car and slammed the door shut faster than the driver could even blink. The yellow abomination drove off down the street, leaving skipper alone in front of the building, pinching the bridge of his nose relieved that the cab ride from hell was finally over. He turned around and saw the light was already on in the office. He sighed and marched up the stairs where he knew his team was waiting with plenty of questions, he just hoped he had the right answers.

"She suggested what?" Private asked surprised. Skipper slowly raised his head from his desk where he was trying to avoid questions, he sighed.

"Marlene suggested that she and I not sleep together until the wedding night." Rico shook his head in pity.

"You'll never make it Skipper," Kowalski said matter of factly, "You're a guy and we all need um- company if we are not to go insane," Skipper turned his head to face the scientist.

"Don't try to cover up your own mistakes with science, Kowalski. Remember you're still in the dog house for partaking in less than pleasant, 'company'," Kowalski looked toward the hallway where Doris was sitting outside, then down at his feet.

"I think Kowalski may be right on this one, Skippah," Private said sitting down next to his leader, "Marlene will understand if you say no, she loves you. And we certainly won't think any less of you if you back down from this one challenge," Skipper looked at Private seriously.

"I'm not a quitter Private; I know how to stand up to a challenge," With that Skipper stood up and walked to the door.

"You mean you're actually going to go through with this?" Kowalski said with amazement leaning on his desk.

"Got no choice boys. Better to go through with something and die trying rather than not go through with it at all." Skipper opened the door and let Doris in, "You can come in now."

Doris walked through the door and smiled at Kowalski before sitting down in a chair opposite Skipper's. She was still dressed in the red number they had found her in the night before; Skipper hadn't sent anyone to pick up her things since then. Kowalski set up the tape recorder.

"Can you please state your full name for the record?" Skipper stated as the boys sat down again for the second interrogation of the case.

"Doris Amelia Joyce."

"Can you tell us anything about your relationship with Vincent Mad Rat Riatonni?" Doris paused.

"I never wanted to have a relationship with him," She started out, "My boss he- he knew Vince had a weakness when it came to women and, as I said earlier he wanted Katrina for himself."

"Why did you go through with this relationship if you didn't want to?"

"He threatened my life," she said looking down, "He's got dirt on almost everyone in town."

"Can you be a little more specific than that?"

"He threatened my life!" She reinstated, "What more do you need to know than that?"

"Why would he want Katrina for himself?" She sighed.

"He said he got tired of all the girls, wanted a new one."

"What is your boss's name?" She hesitated.

"He'll kill me if I tell you." Kowalski bolted upright in his chair.

"As long as you are under my-our protection, no one is going to hurt you. We swear." Doris looked at the recorder, out the window, and down at her lap. Not uttering a word for quite some time. She sighed in defeat.

"His name is Barry Linden. He lives in the floor above me. I guess it was good that you made me not go home." The name clicked in Skipper's head as he remembered what Mad Rat had written

"Can you describe this man for us?" Skipper asked as Rico opened up a notepad. Despite his violent nature, Rico's skill with a paintbrush, pencil, pen, or any artistic utensil for that matter, was quite apparent.

"He has red hair. A fairly round face. These big- and I mean big- eyes- blue. His nose is a bit crooked, but round like his face. . . his mouth is thin but his cheeks are full and. . ." Rico laughed a bit, "What are you laughing at?" Doris said. Rico turned his drawing to Skipper, who nearly laughed too. Skipper plucked the drawing out of Rico's hand and turned it around to Doris. On the page was exactly what she had described in drawing form. However, the man on the page looked more like one of those adorable children from a candy advertisement billboard rather than an intimidating mob boss.

"Is this your boss?" Skipper said trying to contain his laughter, Doris's eyes whet wide.

"YES! That's him!" She said frantically pointing at the drawing. Skipper shook his head and set the drawing down; she was really afraid of this man.

"Anything else you can tell us about him that might attribute to this case?" Doris thought for a second.

"Yes, back in February. . . Barry was trying to work out an alliance with Mad Rat. . . I don't think it worked out though. Something about Mad Rat cheating in a bet." Skipper thought for a second, and then looked back up at Doris.

"Thank you, Doris, I think that's all the questions we have." Kowalski hit the stop button on the recorder and began to wrap it up. Doris did not stand up, her face had gone pale and her eyes drained of color. Kowalski paused.

"Are you alright?" He said walking around the table to kneel by her. Her eyes were fixed on the table in front of her. Void of emotion. She shook her head.

"I should have never told you anything. . ." She said with fear in her voice, "He's going to kill me now. . ." Skipper looked at Doris and then back at Kowalski.

"Take her home," he said to his second in command, "make sure no one gets to her. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir," Kowalski helped Doris to her feet. She was shaking, "Come on Doris, I'll make sure you're safe," he whispered to her calmingly.

"Kowalski," Skipper said as they were nearing the door. Kowalski paused and turned around.

"Skipper?"

"I still have some things to discuss with the boys so I'll have Private call you about our discussion."

"Yes, sir." Kowalski closed the door behind them. Rico watched out the window to make sure they got into a cab safely. Private sat down again in front of Skipper.

"What did you need to tell us?" Rico sat down as well.

"Tomorrow we're going to confront this Barry guy. I'm not sure if we can convict him for Mad Rat's murder but," Skipper looked to the door, "I think we can convict him on assault and battery." Rico shook his head and mumbled.

"Rico's right, Skippah, this could be risky. We've only dealt with one other mob boss before, and he's dead now." Rico nodded and grunted in agreement.

"Boys, we survived one of the greatest wars in history, I think we can handle a little mob boss," Skipper laughed to himself and showed Rico's picture again, "I don't think this guy will be a problem." Private shook his head. He hated the 'we survived war' guilt trip that Skipper pulled.

"I'm in," He said with a smile. Rico paused and then nodded, "What time should we be here tomorrow?"

"I think the best approach would be around noon, it's safer when the sun's out."

"So ten hundred hours then?" Skipper nodded and looked at the clock, two pm.

"You should get home boys, you were supposed to have the day off today. Rico, I'm sure Carlotta has gotten wind of the case by now. She'll be worried." Rico nodded and gathered his things to leave, "And Private, make sure you stake out those new people moving into your apartment. They're Russian or Hungarian or something. . . I don't trust them." Private nodded.

"But that one girl, uh… Cupid I think her name is she can't be-"

"I. Don't. Trust. Them. And you shouldn't either." Private sighed in defeat.

"Fine, what are you going to do?"

"I have paper work I need to fill out for the case. I don't need you boys here." Private nodded and collected his things before following Rico out the door.

"See you tomorrow then Skippah," Skipper nodded as the door shut behind them.

Hours late Skipper had the last document in front of him. A blank warrant for the arrest of one Barry Linden, along with a photo ID from the archives. Skipper rubbed his eyes, the lamp light finally doing a toll on them. There was a knock at the door. Skipper looked at his watch, _who on earth could that be at this hour?_ He thought.

"It's open," He said warily, knowing exactly where the gun under his desk was taped. Katrina came walking through the door in a grey coat and hat.

"Oh thank goodness you're here." Katrina said, she carried a bundle wrapped in brown paper under her arm, "I found something in the apartment that I think you should look at," she put the package down on the desk. Skipper looked at the package then looked at her.

"This couldn't wait till tomorrow?" He asked. She shook her head.

"I didn't think it could." Skipper sighed and moved the warrant away, pulling the package closer to him. He undid the white string and opened the brown paper. Inside was a shirt, a very small shirt. It had what looked like black paint all over it and was torn at on the front.

"What is this?" Skipper asked Katrina. Katrina looked at him.

"Evidence," She said excitedly.

"Evidence against who?" Katrina stared at him.

"And you call yourself a detective," Skipper glared at her.

"Would you just tell me what the hell this is?" Skipper said losing his patience.

"It means that Vince was marked," Skipper didn't say anything, still confused, "by another gang!"

"Which gang?" Skipper said finally interested in where this was going.

"Well that's just it… there's three signs here." She said pointing to the shirt carefully opening it.

"Three?"

"Yes, the black paint… that's the Gypsy Jokers,"

"Gypsy Jokers?" Katrina nodded.

"From Queens, my husband never sat well when they were in his territory," She paused and pointed to the torn parts of the shirt, "Pagan Sharks," Skipper looked at the shirt.

"How can you tell?" Katrina held out her hand.

"Do you have a large piece of paper?" Skipper opened a drawer and handed her two sheets. She slid them inside the shirt revealing the pattern of a star carved into the shirt. Skipper sat back in his chair.

"Where do these people hail from?" He asked crossing his arms.

"Lower Westside Manhattan. They usually don't bother coming into Brooklyn. But on occasion they do."

"And the third sign?" Katrina sat back.

"Look at the size of the shirt." Skipper looked again. It was small, far too small to fit any man half of Mad Rat's size, let alone the mobster himself.

"Only a child could fit into that," Skipper said indicating the shirt.

"The Red Cats." Katrina said simply, "They're actually around our home. We've had an alliance though, so I wouldn't understand why they would-"

"What do they do?"

"Excuse me?"

"What do they do that keeps them in an alliance?" Katrina looked at him, shocked, "I know what I'm talking about, Mrs. Riatonni; I assure you. Now what do they do?" She paused.

"They sell us. . . things."

"Things as in… drugs?" Skipper asked fairly straightforwardly. Katrina paused and then nodded.

"Drugs, men, anything we need." Skipper nodded.

"Do you mind if I keep this? For evidence?" Katrina nodded.

"Of course," Her eyes fell on a picture frame on Skipper's desk. She picked it up and looked at it calmly, "is this your wife?" She asked with a smile.

"Fiancé," He said picking the frame out of her hand and setting it back on the desk.

"Oh well then, I wish you all the best," Katrina began to gather her things and stood up, "But she must have done something to make you so upset." With that she turned on her heel and began to walk out.

"Excuse me?"

"I know people better than you think I do Mr. Blake. I can tell, from your posture and the look in your eyes, your fiancé must have said something to you that's making you stay here and fill out unneeded warrants," Skipper sat there in silent shock, "If you ever need me, feel free to call," Katrina gave him a smile and shut the door behind her. Skipper looked down at the shirt and saw a small white index card out of the corner of his eye. He picked it up and stared at it.

_Katrina Riatonni_

_212-968-7666_

At the bottom of the card was a kiss mark of red lipstick. Skipper put it in his drawer faster than the speed of light as soon he finished reading it. He put his head in his hands and then looked over at his picture of Marlene. He sighed.

"This is going to be harder than I thought, Marlene," he said looking at the picture.

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TADA!!!!!! Did you enjoy that? I did. PS... there is a kid in my class named Barry and no one likes him.... so that's his last name. That and I couldn't resist using Barry as a character. . . because poison dart frogs are amazing. So there. NOW ONTO THE QUESTIONS:

(worth 2 points): Skipper faces the similar problem as what TV doctor did in the third season of this TV show. (one point for the doctor's name, one point for the show... hint hint it's on ABC now after being dumped by... Fox i think it was)

(worth 1 point): Who was the cab driver. (he's a character on the show)

(Worth 4 points): Name the famous Irish Pirate Queen who's husband was killed by the Joyce clan in Ireland?

(worth 1 point): What pirate also answered the question 'do I make myself clear' by saying 'transparently'?

(worth 1 point): Where on earth is non-human Cupid from? (the character..... you know which one I'm talking about)

(worth 1 point): the Sharks.... what musical is this? (if you don't get this right.... you just fail at life!!!!)

because this is the last chapter with questions, i decided to add a bunch. PM ME YOUR ANSWERS! but on another note plz Review this.... YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO!


	5. The Frog

Now here it is folks, CHAPTER FIVE!!!! I am pleased to announe the winner of my trivia contest is..... HALFHUMAN!!!!!!!! bravo for everyone else who tried. If you want to know the answers to any of the questions in the past four chapters I will be happy to tell them to you. Here's chapter five! Enjoy

Disclaimer: I don't own POM or Navi

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Skipper and Rico sat in the police car as it crept along the streets of the Bronx. The cruiser sped past the Lemur Club; Skipper glanced at it remembering everything that had happened that night. He quickly shook his head, rousing him from his trance and looked away from the graffiti lined streets down at the warrant in his hand. Rico, who was driving, looked at his commanding officer with concern.

"No worry," Rico managed to rasp out. Skipper gave a quick smile, not looking up.

"I'm not worried." He said, his smug military attitude returning, "Not for me at least, I'm worried that this guy won't be able to handle us." Rico laughed and checked the rearview mirror, making sure Private and Kowalski were still right behind them in the other cop car. Sure enough they were. Kowalski was doing a quick weapons check while Private drove the car. Skipper looked down at the address Doris had given them and then back up at the passing buildings.

"It's right here," Skipper said pointing to a dilapidated looking brick building. Rico slowed and stopped right in front. Like that night at the Lemur Club, the streets were still polluted with prostitutes, who scattered as soon as they saw the cop car. A group of drug dealers ran into the allies, one young looking one stared a moment before being yanked into the ally by his comrade. Rico laughed as he checked the guns before handing one to Skipper and sliding his own into its holster. Skipper folded up the warrant and motioned to the boys to get out of the other car.

They walked up the flights of stairs to the sixth level, top floor. Skipper glanced at the apartment number, _6D_, and glanced once more at the paper to make sure it was the right apartment. He motioned to the rest of his team and placed a hand on his gun before knocking on the door. He heard footsteps calmly approach the door before they stopped.

"Who's there?" The voice from behind the door said. His voice seemed high, but it was definitely male.

"James Blake," Skipper said calmly to the door, "I need to talk with you." He heard a fumbling of locks before the door slowly creaked open. There stood their suspect, Barry Linden, just as Doris had described him. But he was shorter than Skipper had thought, standing at a height similar, if not smaller, than Private.

From where Skipper was standing he could somewhat see into the room behind Barry. There was one window letting light into the dingy room. The hard wood floors were stained with dark spots. It was warm in the room, like a jungle. The walls were painted with a grey green paint that looked like dying leaves. The entire room stank of body odor and bodily fluids. Skipper wrinkled his nose at the sight.

"Yes?" Barry said leaning against his door, his blue eyes flicked like knives across each of the boys.

"Are you Barry Linden?" Skipper asked, Barry nodded; Skipper reached inside his coat jacked and saw Barry tense up. From within the confines of his coat Skipper pulled a police badge, "Barry Linden you are hereby under arrest by the city of New York City," Skipper nodded at Rico to cuff him; Barry backed up into his room. Barry laughed.

"On what charges exactly?" He ran into a desk set up against an open window. Skipper walked into the apartment as well.

"Assault and battery of one Doris Joyce," Barry's eyes darkened, "and until we have more evidence, the murder of one Vincent 'Mad Rat' Riatonni." Barry laughed darkly, something they weren't expecting.

"Doris? Why she's just an insignificant lying whore," Kowalski broke through Skipper.

"Don't you dare talk like that about her!" Barry smirked.

"Oh, tough guy, huh? Doris works for me; I can talk about her any way I want. And I say that she is a whore, she's been playing you like a fiddle, boy." Each word stung Kowalski like a hot fire poker. He reached for his gun on his hip and pointed it at Barry.

"I said don't talk about her like that! She wouldn't." Barry laughed again. There was a silence in the room, heavy as the lead that flowed through the paint on the walls. Kowalski did not lower his gun. Private approached Kowalski calmly and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Kowalski," Private said quietly, "He's not worth it, put the gun down." Private tried to lower the gun but Kowalski held his post.

"Yes, Kowalski," Barry said with spite, "Put the gun down, or shoot me." Kowalski glared at the criminal, "be a man." He said with a smirk.

"He's not worth it." Skipper said reiterating Private's point. Kowalski slowly lowered the gun. Skipper silently breathed a sigh of relief and nodded at Rico, who began to approach Barry again.

"You are mistaken officers," Barry said with a smug attitude, "I'm not going to any prison."

"Oh I think you are," Kowalski said with spite. Barry smiled a cruel, twisted smile.

"Oh I don't think so," Barry's arms shifted behind his back, "Think fast!" He said as he pulled a gun off of the desk behind him and fired at Kowalski. The bullet hit Kowalski square in the shoulder. Kowalski fell to his knees in pain, grasping his shoulder. Skipper looked at Kowalski and then back up at Barry, just in time to see him jumping out of the window. Skipper ran to try and stop him, but he was too late. Barry had jumped. Skipper looked out the window to see that he was still alive, struggling to try and get as far away from the building as possible.

"Rico, his ankles are broken. Try and stop him, he can't get too far." Rico nodded and without hesitation ran out the door and back down the stairs. Skipper rushed to Kowalski's side. Kowalski was leaning against Private his arm skill clutching his shoulder for dear life. Skipper grasped Kowalski's hand and pried it off the wound. It was covered in blood. Skipper took off Kowalski's coat as quickly as he could without hurting him. He tore the sleeve off of his shirt for a makeshift bandage, revealing the wound. It was an ugly looking one. Skipper had seen worse in the war, but this was not warfare. The bullet, from what he could see was lodged right under his collar bone. The wound was leaking blood like a running faucet. Skipper wasted no time wrapping the sleeve around the wound.

"Don't worry, Kowalski, we'll get you to a hospital." Private said trying to sooth Kowalski as he slowly helped him to his feet. Skipper helped walk Kowalski down the stairs and out the door, the makeshift bandage now red with blood. As the three walked out the door they saw Rico pinning Barry to the ground, cuffing his hands behind his back. Skipper made sure Private had Kowalski before running to Rico. Skipper stooped down so that Barry could see his face.

"Barry Linden, I said it once and I'll say it again, you are under arrest. And I am reserving my own right to not read you your rights." Rico yanked Barry up to his feet and forced him into the back of the cop car and slammed the door, "Rico, I need you to drive Kowalski to the hospital as fast as you can." Rico nodded and hopped into the other cop car, speeding off to the nearest hospital. Skipper jumped into the front seat of the car and began to drive slowly to the same hospital. Barry groaned in pain.

"Can you treat a hostage like this?" Barry asked smugly with a hint of pain.

"One, you're not a hostage. Two, I am taking you to a hospital. Three, you better start talking unless you want me to drive slower so they have to amputate your feet by the time we get there." Skipper looked in the rearview mirror and saw the color drain from Barry's face, but the criminal kept his mouth shut, "How did you get a gun?" Skipper asked. Still Barry didn't say a word, "How did you get a gun?" Skipper asked again.

"I'm reserving my right to not speak," Barry said smugly. Skipper turned down a side street where he knew a lot of traffic would be.

"Fine, we'll be at the hospital in about an hour," the car hit a pot hole and Barry screamed in pain.

"One of my friends got it for me."

"Which friend?" Skipper said, purposefully driving over another pot hole, causing Barry to be on the brink of tears.

"Bing!" Barry screamed, "Down at the boxing ring. He got it for me in exchange for one of my girls."

"What kind of gun is it?" Barry didn't hesitate answering this time, fearing that another pothole would bring more pain.

"Colt .45" Barry said clenching back in pain. Skipper mentally cursed, it wasn't the gun they were looking for. With that Skipper turned down another side street and parked on the side.

"I'm going to tell you exactly what you are going to do. You are going to give me all of the answer I ask for. You're going to tell me every little detail and if you do not cooperate I will not hesitate to bring you down. Am I understood?" no sound came from the back of the car aside from quite whimpering, "Am I understood?!" Skipper said more forcefully.

"Yes, sir," Barry said quietly. If there were three things you didn't mess with unless you wanted a one way ticket to county or worse it was Marlene, any one of the boys, or Skipper himself. Barry had violated two of the three and was now suffering for it. Skipper mentally talked himself back to a calm state of mind before carefully sending the car forward to the hospital. Barry sat quietly in the back sniveling like a baby as the car slowly approached the hospital.

Not long after their arrival Skipper sat quietly in the hall way, his head in his hands, trying to mull over the evidence. Rico sat to his right, reading an old newspaper from last month, the head line read _Australian Mobster Released from Prison_. Private stood at the pay phone, calling Officer X, his team, and Doris as well. The doctor, after one look at Kowalski, had rushed him off to surgery. If that bullet didn't come out of Kowalski's shoulder soon it could cause permanent damage. Skipper sat up calmly, Rico handed him the old newspaper.

"Read," Rico said pointing to an article on the front page. Private walked over beside Skipper, finished with his phone calls.

"Rico's right," He said sitting down, "Maybe you should read some to take your mind off of this. The doctor said Kowalski would be fine. Skipper nodded and looked at the old article. He had already read it when it came out, but it couldn't hurt to re-read.

The picture at the top of the article was a mug shot of someone Skipper had dealt with frequently in the past; Joey Anderson. The guy had come to America from Australia when he was about ten and, next to Riatonni, was one of the most prominent mob bosses around. Although he would never let on, Joey was the one mob boss that had scared Skipper the most. His fighting skills were twice what Skipper had; he was a grind and a planner, as cunning as he was strong. But Skipper had put Joey away months before the war and hadn't heard of him since the article came out last month in September. Skipper quietly read the article:

_AUSTRALIAN MOBSTER RELEASED FROM PRISON_

_As of last week mobster Joey Anderson, of the Gypsy Jokers, has been paroled. The mere mention of this mobster's name brings up painful memories of hijacking, Tommy guns, and broken skulls. Particularly known for his involvement in the underground boxing circuit, Anderson was convicted on the twenty second of November, 1939 at the age of twenty-three for the murder of one Lucinda Mary Barker as well as twenty five accounts of robbery, twelve accounts of hijacking, and three accounts of assault and battery. Now for the first time in eight years Anderson will be able to walk the streets free of shackles. _

_Mr. James Blake, of Penguin Operations Detective Agency, was the man responsible for the capture and arrest of this criminal had this to say about the release of the mobster, "Although I do not trust Mr. Anderson and I never have I am willing to trust this judges opinion. Perhaps we shall give Mr. Anderson the benefit of the doubt and trust that he will return to society a changed man."_

_Judge P. Inkary granted the parole last week under the conditions that Anderson give up his formal right as a mob boss and has been placed under house arrest until further notice._

Skipper set the article down as one of the doctors approached them. She was young, Skipper thought, too young to be a doctor. She had blond hair that seemed to glow like a light styled into a messy bun. Her blue eyes were hidden behind thick glasses as she sheepishly looked at the boys. They stood up.

"Are you Mr. Kowalski's escorts?" She asked in a shy voice looking back down at the chart.

"Yes ma'am," Private said. She extended one of her hands.

"My name is Navi Pole, I'm an intern here and I would like to tell you that the surgery was a success. Mr. Kowalski should be fine. I'll show you to your room," Rico, Private, and Skipper all followed her, "Joey Anderson?" She asked seeing the article Skipper was putting down.

"Yes," Skipper said.

"I read about him," She looked up at Skipper and back at the article, "You're the one who put him in jail aren't you?" Skipper nodded, "You did us all a favor really. I just can't believe a horrible man like that is out walking the streets again." Skipper smiled.

"Don't worry; in the month he's been out we haven't heard any trouble from him. And for a mobster of his caliber, that's a good sign." She gave a shy smile.

"I suppose it is." She led them down the hall to a room where Kowalski was sitting propped up against a pillow. His arm was in a sling and his shoulder was bandaged pretty heavily, but he was smiling. Rico and Private rushed through the door to make sure he was alright. Navi began to walk away before Skipper caught her by the arm.

"I administered another patient today as well, a Mr. Barry Linden? Could you tell me where he is?" Navi flipped through her clip board.

"Oh yes, Mr. Linden. Administered today with two broken ankles?"

"That would be him."

"I can show you to his room," She said shyly, "if you want." Skipper nodded.

"Yes please." Navi led Skipper down another hall to where Barry was. Two police men were standing on either side of the door. Skipper quickly flashed them his badge and was allowed in. As they entered the room Skipper could clearly see what a poor sight Barry was. Both his feet were gingerly propped up onto two pillows. An IV containing painkillers fed into his right hand. And his eyes were closed in pain. Slowly Barry opened his eyes and looked at Skipper and Navi.

"Agent Blake," he said with mock eminence, he then turned his attention to Navi, "And Nurse Navi. Wonderful to see you again, doll." Navi shied away.

"I'm not a nurse yet Mr. Linden, just an intern." Barry smiled at her.

"You should be," Navi blushed and turned on her heels, heading out of the room. As the door shut Barry turned his attention back to Skipper, "And to what do I owe this displeasure."

"The deal we made in the car. I got you here in one piece, now you're going to start talking or I will keep my end of the deal, got it?" Barry nodded.

"What do you want to know?"

"Why did you send Doris to Mad Rat?" Barry laughed.

"Have you _seen_ Katrina? God, what a fox." He glanced over at Skipper, who did not feel like sharing in this man's humor, "I wanted her, but Mad Rat would've torn my head off if I even tried to get close to her. Doris was. . . not doing her job good enough for my liking, so I sent her over. And Mad Rat fell for it like a dumb mouse to a trap."

"But it didn't work did it?" Skipper said leaning slightly back in his chair.

"How would you know?" from within the confines of his jacket Skipper pulled forth Riatonni's journal.

"Katrina had him break off relations with Doris as soon as she found out. Also, if Katrina had chosen you, you would have been dead, not Riatonni." Barry looked down.

"I had a bit more competition than expected."

"Competition? From who?"

"Boys in Mad Rat's gang, Vikarma, a few people from the Gypsy Jokers-"

"Gypsy Jokers? Joey Anderson's gang?"

"Yea, Anderson rooted out all the ozzies in the city, they were all over her like 'shrimps on a barbie'" Barry said in a mock Australian accent. Skipper raised an eyebrow.

"I'm just trying to find this murderer."

"Anderson? Good luck finding-"

"Not him. Whoever killed Riatonni."

"Oh, well you got as much a guess as I do, but I sure as hell didn't do it."

"How do I know you're telling the truth." Barry laughed.

"Are you kidding me? If anybody in Mad Rat's posy saw me anywhere NEAR him with a gun, they'd slaughter me. But he did get into some deep shit down at the ring. Hell, Bada and Bing were talking about banning him from there."

"The ring?"

"Yea, made a guy take the fall for a fight. He was the favorite too. It got the guy a lot of money, but it completely thrashed his reputation. And in this world, with mobsters dying left and right, that's all you've got. Someone ruins it for you; you don't stop till they've lost everything they've loved. You don't stop till they breathe their last breath." Barry closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillow, "I'm tired Blake. At least let me sleep for a while, I hardly get any sleep anymore."

"Why is that?" Skipper asked.

"Wicked doesn't sleep in this city. Revenge and thirst for power, that's what runs this city. If you don't watch your back everything you have can be snapped up from you. Wicked doesn't sleep." Skipper nodded and headed out of the room back down to Kowalski, Rico, and Private.

"Skipper, where did you go?" Private asked.

"I had some business to take care of with Barry." Kowalski slowly raised himself up from his lounging position.

"What kind of business?"

"I just had a few questions to ask him."

"And?" Rico rasped out.

"He didn't do it."

"Are you sure?" Private said with surprise.

"He was terrified of Riatonni, everyone was. Whoever we're looking for had to have had a crap load of guts. Barry's nothing more than an intimidating toad." Skipper sat down next to Kowalski, "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," Kowalski said suddenly grabbing his shoulder in pain, "But I've also been worse. I'll live. Where do we go from here?"

"Boxing ring, I suppose. Everyone keeps talking about this cheat scheme that Mad Rat put together a few weeks before his death, I think it would be best if we finally got the whole story." Kowalski clentched his eyes in pain quickly, but stopped as soon as he saw Skipper look at him.

"I'm fine," he said trying to muster up as much convincing power as possible.

"We'll have to wait a while. You can't work like this."

"What about Marlene?" Private asked, Skipper sighed.

"We may not be able to be on the case for a few weeks at most. Mad Rat's funeral will be in a few days. But until Kowalski is better we are just going to have to lay low. I can protect Marlene at home." Private nodded and looked at Kowalski.

"We should let him rest," he said. Skipper nodded and led the boys out of the room.

"Heal up, we'll be back for you in the morning," Skipper said before shutting the door. Kowalski nodded and slowly fell asleep. As they were walking out skipper ran into a younger man accidentally, "Sorry." He said. The boy nodded. His orange hair seemed matted, his skin was white and taught, he had a twitch in his left hand. Just as Skipper was nearing the door the boy called out.

"I think I can help you with your case Mr. Blake," the younger man said. Skipper stopped and turned around and walked up to the boy. The man took a shaky breath before speaking again, "My name is Max O'Malley, Riatonni was one of my friends."

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So.... did you enjoy it? BUM BUM BUM! i hope you like it! Please review this for me!!!!!! I would greatly appreciate it!


	6. The Poison

RAWR! Hello my dearest readers! sorry for the lack of consistent updates.... AP US history is turning out to be a bigger bitch than I thought it would be! :P, but we are nearing this time period so that should help. Also I thought I should clear this up, I WILL NOT BE USING BLOWHOLE IN THIS STORY! just saying, its not that he's not a/going to be a fantastic character, its just everyone uses him as the culprit so I thought I'd go with something else. Just thought I'd clear that up, but I still cant wait to finally see him! OPERATION BLOWHOLE PREMERE'S IN A LITTLE OVER A WEEK! OH TO THE MG! Enjoy chapter 6

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Skipper and the boys sat in the back row of the Trinity Church. Each of them dressed in black suits and black ties. Kowalski's arm was in a sling, still recovering from the gunshot wound. It had been only about a week since the incident with Barry and Kowalski was just healing. Barry had been charged with assault and battery as well as the assault of a police official, six years in prison for such crimes. Doris had reluctantly moved back into her own apartment, she had become quite attached to Kowalski and as much as Skipper wanted to believe that she was lying, he could see that Kowalski had changed her.

As far as Max went, Skipper hadn't told the team about him yet, taking care of matters himself. The boys still didn't know that Skipper was in possession of Mad Rat's journal. He knew that he should have told them by now, but he felt as though it was a piece of evidence that he should keep to himself. When the chance presented itself, he would show them. Skipper spied Max sitting near the front of the small church and could clearly see the twitch in his hand. It didn't take very much to know that Max was the same Moon Cat O'Malley that Katrina had mentioned.

At the thought of Katrina, Skipper once again scanned the crowd for the mobster vixen. He soon spotted her sitting in the front row. He could only see the back of her head, her blond hair tied back and partially hidden under a black hat. She was sitting next to an unidentifiable mobster, someone from Riatonni's own gang no doubt. Since the day in his office, Skipper had tried to not even talk about or see Katrina. Her 'card' was buried within the confines of his desk, under papers, old files, and anything else Skipper could muster to keep the blasted woman off of his mind. But this task was proving to be easier said than done. Since his and Marlene's…. arrangement, other women were becoming more of a 'temptation' than ever. Skipper shook his head to temporarily free his mind of thoughts of the woman.

Skipper turned his attention to the pastor at the head of the church that stood behind the casket decked in fall flowers. The pastor began to speak

"Vincent was a man of time. He was conscious of who had it, how long you had it, and how quickly you could lose it. He was not a man to waste it. In this hour of darkness we now realize why he was a man of time. There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: A time to be born and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal; a time to tear down and a time to build; a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them; a time to embrace and a time to refrain; a time to search and a time to give up; a time to keep and a time to throw away; a time to tear and a time to mend; a time to be silent and a time to speak; a time to love and a time to hate; a time for war and a time for peace. With these words we burry our beloved and hope that God will welcome him with open arms and forgiveness. Amen."

"Amen," the crowd echoed with sadness.

"Amen," Skipper muttered to himself as the crowd began to stand and gravitate toward the casket. As the crowd went one way, Skipper and his team went the other way.

A few days later, Skipper returned to the cemetery alone. He stared at the fresh grave, just buried days ago, a dirt mound among the dying grass, a reminder of the job ahead. The head stone read:

_Vincent Riatonni _

_Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends _

_1905-1947_

"His favorite quote," a shaky voice said behind Skipper. The detective turned around to see Max standing behind him, eyes fixated on the grave. In the darkening light of the hospital, Skipper had not been able to see his eyes before. One was pale green while the other was ocean blue. Max looked back up at Skipper, "You wanted to see me, right?" Skipper nodded.

"You say you were a friend of Riatonni?" Max nodded.

"One of his best." Skipper crossed his arm

"Are you sure about that? From what a lot of people are saying, you're the one that killed him," Skipper narrowed his eyes, "Druggie." Max looked down and grabbed his hand in an attempt to make it stop shaking.

"It's my job. The service wouldn't do for me what it obviously did for you," He motioned to Skipper's well dressed appearance, "Army?" he asked, Skipper shook his head.

"Marines."

"You look like it," he said looking Skipper over, "Well, they wouldn't take me. Times were hard, this paid very well." Skipper looked Max over. Other than the shakes, he couldn't find a problem with him.

"Why wouldn't they take you? You look plenty fine to me." Max touched his green eye.

"Partially blind."

"Drugs?"

"No, birth." Max pointed to his shaky hand, "That was drugs," he said with a small laugh, "Kind of hard to avoid them." Skipper nodded, "Are you going to arrest me for my job?" Skipper shook his head. He needed this kid. Skipper motioned for Max to follow him, as they walked they began to talk.

"How old are you, kid?"

"I'm twenty-five," this kid was younger than Private by at least a year.

"When did you meet Riatonni?"

"Nine years ago, in '38"

"You were only sixteen" Skipper said surprised.

"He took me under his wing, more of a father to me than my real dad ever was, that's for damn sure."

"You don't sound like you're from New York," Skipper said taking in the way that Max talked.

"I'm not, I'm from Los Angeles. Came out here to try and find my calling, and escape my father." Max said looking at the ground, "My friend got me out here by herself."

"Her?"

"Yeah, Katrina. Good gal, introduced me to Vince."

"How old is she?"

"How old are you?"

"Classified information," Skipper was not too keen on letting people know his age, it prevented too much attention from being on him and also allowed for some mystery.

"Well she's about…" Max did some math in his head, "I'd say thirty two now."

"She was that much younger than Riatonni?" Max shrugged, "I guess, they were already married when I got here." Skipper sat down on a bench and patted the seat next to him. He paused, trying to piece together what he was going to say next.

"What can you tell me about the people you deal with?"

"Uh….."

"I don't need to know what you sell them. I need to know gangs, small talk, big talk, anything you can tell me about your clients." Max scratched his head.

"There was quite some buzz about that boxer guy who got out of jail back in September. It was all people were talking about. My boss said to look out for him, could be bad for business."

"Boxer?"

"Yeah…. His name started with a J. . . can't remember it though."

"Joey Anderson?"

"Yeah, that's the guy! People were all surprised. It's bad enough we have to deal with other stupid immigrants, but the second you throw in ozzies it's just a bad story. That was the big talk around there. There was also quite a fuss about that boxing match too."

"That's the fifth time I've heard this mentioned."

"Well I don't know the whole story, haven't ever been down to the boxing ring."

"Do you know where it is though?" Max nodded leaning back onto the bench.

"Oh sure, it's up on the north side of Manhattan."

"Know how to get there?" Again Max nodded.

"Take the A train north, get off at 181st street, take the stairs up, go two blocks east and there should be an alley- you writing this down?" Skipper took out his pad of paper and scribbled down the instructions, "Go down the alley and it's the third door down the stairs on your left. Knock three times and you're in." Skipper finished the last word on his little note pad.

"Any pass words I should be concerned about?" Max shook his head.

"Not any that I know of. Just watch your back while you're there. Those guys know how to fight, I'd hate for you to lose a limb," Skipper smirked.

"You don't have any faith in me?" Max laughed a little.

"You're just kinda short, that's all." Skipper stood up.

"I was in the Marines, remember?" Max nodded and stood up too.

"Just don't get yourself hurt. The guys up there know what they're doing, they could really hurt a guy." Skipper nodded and handed Max a card.

"If you ever need anything give us a call." Max took the card and nodded. But just as he was turning to walk away Skipper stopped him took the card back and scribbled another number on the back.

"Is this your home number?" Skipper shook his head.

"Rehab center. I'd go check myself in if I were you. There are other jobs besides this one." Max stood there dumbfounded staring at the card, "also I'd check in with the foreman at the T.S. Clothes factory. My fiancé told me that they have a few jobs open there." Skipper turned on his heel and began to walk away, "Trust me, you'll live longer." Max flipped the card over and over again before going back down the street.

Skipper sat with the boys in the office weeks later going over evidence. From what Skipper had heard, since his conversation with Max the kid had gotten a job at the same factory as Marlene. Skipper was proud of the kid for finally trying to get his life straightened out. He had called the rehab center multiple times to make sure the kid was still going to his sessions. He was happy to hear that he was.

The desk was littered with mug shots of different mobsters, files, and forms. The suspect list from the first day they had gotten the case was still pinned to the bulletin board behind Skipper's desk. Private sighed.

"Bada and Bing are the only ones left!" he said pointing to the pictures of the two owners. They were twins, huge ones, each measuring six foot seven inches and weighing around two hundred and fifty pounds each. Like walking tanks, as Kowalski so vividly described them. Sons of German immigrants, they weren't much liked by the police or any self respecting American who wasn't interested in boxing. But when it came to boxing matches there were no duo better. Skipper hated the idea of going to interrogate them, but what must be done must be done. Rico rested his head in his hands and let out a frustrated sigh.

"They must have done it." Kowalski added. His arm was now out of the sling, but he still couldn't do much physical activity

"I'm not sure," Skipper started, instigating a frustrated groan from the entire team, "Oh suck it up! I want to find out about this deal that Mad Rat cheated on. It may lead to more suspects."

"We haven't got much time left Skippah," Private said with worry, "Word is that if we don't find out soon we could all be in danger." Skipper glanced at Private and then back at the pictures, his arms crossed.

"We're just worried about Marlene and yours safety." Kowalski said with a defeated tone.

"Uh huh" Rico grunted.

"If we don't find this killer soon he or the boys in Mad Rat's gang might try to hurt you." Kowalski said resting a hand on Skipper's shoulder. Skipper didn't say anything for quite a while.

"I can take care of Marlene just fine, thank you." He said not tearing his eyes from the two suspect's pictures, "I want to see what these guys know and I don't care how long it takes." Kowalski removed his hand from Skipper's shoulder and sighed in defeat. Rico glanced at the clock and grumbled to himself. Skipper smiled, "You boys have put in a long days worth of brain power. Go on home." He said looking at his team. Rico gave a sigh of relief and went to gather his things. Kowalski shrugged at private and went to gather his belongings as well.

"Will you be going home, Skippah?" the Britt asked his leader. Skipper shook his head.

"I have things I have to work on here."

"Well can't you just take them home with you?" Skipper looked at Private, "Sorry, sir, I just worry about Marlene being all alone in that apartment."

"You're concern is appreciated, Private. I won't be long though, just going to clean up and head home." Private nodded.

"Well then, see you tomorrow, sir." And with that Private followed his other three teammates out the door. Skipper gave a frustrated sigh and leaned back in his chair. He did have to clean up, but he didn't want to go home to see Marlene. It had been one month, three weeks, two days, three hours and forty-six seconds since he made that agreement and was suffering greatly from it. He knew, he was counting. Skipper looked at the calendar in the back of the office and flipped through it. Two months, one week, six days till the wedding and as things looked right now, he wasn't sure if he could make it. He rested his arm and head against the wall when he heard the door open.

"I told you to go home Private," he said frustrated turning around. But it was not Private who was standing at the door, it was Katrina. Her blond hair tumbled to her shoulders. The blood left Skipper's face.

"Am I interrupting something Mr. Blake?" She said slipping her coat off to reveal a white silk button up top, with in Skipper's opinion not enough buttons fastened, over a black pencil skirt. Skipper didn't move, but simply stuffed his hands into his pockets and shook his head.

"No, you're not." Katrina sauntered over to Skipper's desk where all the pictures and files were scattered. She shuffled the stuff around looking.

"Bada and Bing?" She said looking at their pictures.

"Please don't touch that," Skipper said snatching the pictures back and putting them back on the table, "What are you doing here, Katrina?"

"Am I suddenly not allowed to know how the case is coming? It's been over a month and you haven't found anything. Not even a scrap of information," She said. Although her words were harsh, her eyes and expression was void of any emotion. Skipper sat down.

"We've found information, Mrs. Riatonni," He said using her last name, mentally reminding himself that she was just as much of a client as always, "We just haven't found the killer yet."

"You said you pride yourself on a speedy response," She quoted from the slogan on their door, "If this is what you call a speedy response then I'm a sixteen-year old gigolo." Her poison colored eyes began to burn holes in Skipper's head.

"We're going as fast as time will permit," he said frustrated, "We can't go any faster Miss. There have been problems."

"Mr. Kowalski? That's your only problem and he was fine two weeks ago!" She said angrily.

"How did you hear about that?" Katrina paused

"Your department hasn't currently been working to my standards, so I went to Officer X." Skipper silently groaned, "He assured me that you were the best in the city and why you haven't been on the job lately."

"He's right. There was nothing we could do."

"I just want justice to be served." She said, her emerald eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Of course." Skipper had thought that Katrina would have just gotten up to walk away, seeing as the reason why she came was cleared up, but she stayed sitting in the chair. She studied his face, "Are you alright Mr. Blake? You aren't nearly as calm and collected as you were when we first met," she crossed her legs and leaned against the desk. Instinctively Skipper scooted his chair back a bit.

"Some things at home have come up, classified information. Nothing you need to worry about Mrs. Riatonni." She giggled.

"Oh Mr. Blake, how many times do I have to tell you this? Call me Katrina."

"I'd rather not." He said very seriously.

"But why ever not?" Her flirtatious voice hit Skipper like a truck.

"You are a client; I do not like to be on first name basis with clients."

"But you'll be on them with suspects?" She said, the flirtatious tone turning to one of annoyance.

"I'm not."

"Well, Max tells me otherwise." She said leaning back in her chair.

"Max?" Shit, the kid had talked to her, "When did you talk to him?"

"Oh we are quite good friends, him and I. Why won't you be on a first name basis with me," She was almost pleading now. Skipper just got up out of his chair and opened the door.

"Because you're distracting," He said being blatantly obvious, "I have a fiancé and I don't want to lose her because you continuously show up here uninvited." Katrina looked down and grabbed her coat and sauntered over to the door.

"I assure you Mr. Blake; I'm just trying to help you." Skipper looked down, avoiding her emerald eyes. Then she did something unexpected. She turned his head back to hers and pulled on his tie, pulling him into a deep kiss. And for whatever reason, Skipper could not make himself pull away. One month, three weeks, two days, three hours, ten minutes and six seconds of built up sexual tension had to be released through something. Katrina pulled back and smiled, "I told you, if you ever need _anything_ just call me." And with those few words she walked out of the door; shutting it behind her and leaving a stunned Skipper standing alone in the office.

The second Skipper got home he flopped down on the couch, still in shock of what had happened earlier in the office. Why didn't he see it coming? Why didn't he stop it? Why didn't he pull away? He groaned out loud and put his hands over his face. Just then Marlene walked through the door; groceries in hand. She paused in the door way to the kitchen as she noticed Skipper lying on the couch in the living room.

"Is everything alright, Skip?" with a jolt Skipper fell off the couch, startled by Marlene. He quickly got up into a fighting pose before he realized it was just Marlene. He dropped his arm and gripped the back of the couch as if it was his last cling to life.

"I thought I told you not to sneak up on me!" he said frazzled. Marlene just stood there in silent shock.

"I'm not sneaking," she put the groceries down. Skipper did usually talk so harshly to her, unless he was upset of course, "Is everything alright? You seem a little. . . I don't know. . . tense?" Skipper gave a few deep breaths, regaining his usual heart rate before walking over to Marlene. He hugged her and kissed her forehead.

"I'm fine, just a little . . . frustrated. I must have dozed off, don't worry." Marlene smiled at him and gave him a quick kiss before going to put the groceries away.

"So, why _are_ you so stressed out?" she asked, Skipper returned to his spot on the couch. Skipper's mind flashed back to that moment when Katrina had kissed him, he shook his head.

"It's just this case. We've barely found _anything_." Marlene came up and hugged him from behind. She placed a sweet kiss on his forehead.

"You'll find something soon. I can feel it. You'll solve this, I know you can." With that Marlene returned to the kitchen, "Besides," she called from the kitchen, "You focus on the little details; this killer won't be able to escape your microscope of examination." She said jokingly, "By the way, how long till our wedding?"

"Two months, one week, five days, eighteen hours." He said his head resting on his hands. He had the date memorized.

"Really, that's not too far away," She said teasingly._ It's a lifetime away!_ Skipper thought desperately. He let out a sigh of frustration. He was running out of time. Running out of time to keep Katrina away, running out of time to solve this case, running out of time to protect Marlene. It seemed that time was currently, perpetually against him. And there was no way out. This case, Katrina, the suspects, they were all poison. Skipper only hoped he wouldn't be too late to find the antidote.

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well, I thought that whent well, didn't you? REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! They make me happy and I love hearing what you guys think of this story! Also, on a side note, am I the only one who's kind of excited for the new episode this weekend, "The Falcon and the Snow Job" looks good. I already love Kitka. she looks like a great character. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!


	7. The Ring

BEHOLD MY FASTEST UPDATE FOR THIS STORY EVER!!!!!!! Anyway, I put alot of work into this. I hope you like this chapter as much as I liked writing it!!!!ENJOY MY FAIR READERS! ENJOY!

Disclaimer: I'm not profiting from this story at all. The Penguins of Madagascar belongs to nickelodieon, Dream works, and Tom McGrath

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The train lurched forward towards upper Manhattan. Skipper, unlike the rest of his team, did not sit down on the train. It had been a week since his meeting with Katrina and he didn't even want to think about it. Kowalski was finally well enough to work, his arm out of the sling, but he still couldn't lift his arm over his head. Sitting next to Kowalski was Private. Although he was quite used to the concept of underground trains, growing up in the London area and all, he was afraid of the train stopping unexpectedly. He wasn't too keen on the idea of being stuck underground in a cramped tunnel. Rico sat next to young Private, completely at ease. Before Rico had enlisted in the Marines he had worked on the subway lines, blasting rock away under the city to make room for new tracks, he was used to being in cramped areas dark areas. Skipper stood on edge next to them, staring dead ahead, focused on the task at hand.

"181st and Fort Washington," The intercom speaker said loudly rousing the boys from the running trance of the subway.

"This is our stop," Skipper said getting off the train, the boys followed in suit. They ascended the staircase to the grimy street. The near empty street was lit by a few faulty street lamps. This was farther north than most of the team had been; it was in better condition than most of New York, but it was still no gleaming utopia of Atlantis or anything like that. The streets were still covered in filth, not too much social trash, but dirty none the less. Skipper followed the exact directions that Max had given him and eventually found the door in the ally way. Just as they were approaching the door a stray cat knocked over a trash can, sending Private into a paranoid frenzy hiding behind Rico.

"Uh, If it's all the same Skipper, I don't think we should be here right now," the boy said in a timid voice.

"Nonsense, we signed onto this case and we're going to finish it." Rico pushed Private in front of him towards Skipper, "Don't tell me you're scared, Private." Rico chuckled at Private.

"What? Scared? No, I'm not scared, just um…. Nervous?" Private said fiddling with the hem of his coat.

"Private, there's nothing to worry about, it's perfectly safe. Right, Skipper?" Just then Skipper opened the door to a room of cigarette smoke and loud cheers. As the boys walked in they noticed a boxing ring set up in the middle of the room. Young men were cheering both opponents until one of them was socked in the face so hard that he was sent hurdling back against the ropes and began to cough up blood.

"Does that answer your question?" All of the blood drained from Private's face. Skipper looked around and saw a foreman taking bets on the fight as it was going on. Skipper walked up to him.

"Bets! Place yo bets here!" the man yelled, his thick accent pinned him to be from the lower Manhattan, Jew town.

"Hey, are you the guy that I talk to to get in touch with Bada and Bing?" The man looked over interested.

"You wanna talk to da bosses, den you talk to me. I can get you in touch with them, for a price," The man said slyly.

"And you are?" Kowalski asked finally catching up with Skipper

"Archie, dats all you need to know for now."

"How much?" Skipper asked

"Twenty five," That was a lot just for a conversation, but at this point Skipper just wanted to wrap up this whole case. He reached in his coat pocket for his wallet when Archie stopped him, "And you gotta win a fight."

"Against who?" Skipper asked as bravely as he could. Just then a voice came over the intercom.

"And once again our champion! RAIGING RHINO REGGIE!" The announcer held the champion's hand up. He was just about as big as Bada and Bing, overly muscled and perpetually terrifying. Just as the name was announced a swarm of people gravitated toward Archie, who started handing out winnings to people and pocketed the losses.

"Beat him, and I'll get you in with da bosses, that is unless you don't catch their eye before you get your skull squished." Skipper turned to Rico, who was arguably the best fighter on the team and perfect for this job.

"Alright Rico, all you need to do is-" Archie stopped him

"You miss understand my friend," he said with an evil grin on his face, "_You_ gotta fight him. Talk about no help from your little team here." Skipper looked at the champion again and then back at Archie.

"Agreed, no help from the team." He shook hands with Archie in agreement.

"Now is there anyone else out there who is willing to challenge our champion!?" The announcer screamed into the intercom. His challenge was met with several moments of dead silence.

"I'll do it," Skipper said, still standing next to Archie. A response of hushed whispers of surprise and sounds of pity emanated from the room like gas. The crowd of people parted as Skipper and the team approached the ring. Reggie laughed.

"You've gotta be kidding me," He said through a fit of laughs, "This guy? He's a shrimp!" indeed, next to Reggie, Skipper was considerably shorter. Skipper removed his coat and button up shirt for the fight, ignoring the jeers from the champion and a few from the crowd as well.

"Skipper, this whole thing is ridiculous!" Kowalski said in a hushed whisper

"It's suicide!" Private warned.

"Yup," Rico said in agreement.

"Boys, I've taken down three Nazis with a broken leg and no ammunition, I think I can handle myself!" Skipper retorted throwing his shirt in Kowalski's face, "Besides, we need to talk with Bada and Bing and if this is the fastest way to do it then I'm all for it." Skipper stood up to face his menacing opponent. The announcer called them both to the center of the ring.

"Shake hands," He said to them. Reggie extended his hand, but removed it quickly just as Skipper was about to shake it. He laughed.

"This won't take long," Reggie laughed, turning to go back to his corner. Skipper hesitated, watching his opponent walk. Then he returned to his corner, planning out his strategy the whole way back.

_Quick left jab under left ear, broken jab; Palm stomach, three broken ribs at least; discombobulate head, disorient him; leg swipe, further damage to right leg where there is limp; while he's getting up grab arm to throw him off balance; deliver final blow out of ring._

Skipper turned around to face his opponent one final time before the bell rang. With a loud clang of the bell the fight began. Reggie charged at Skipper ready to punch the living daylights out of him. Skipper quickly avoided the first punch thrown to his face but wasn't quick enough to see the one coming to his stomach. Skipper faltered a bit.

"What's the matter, Pipsqueak, can't throw a punch?" This added new fire to Skipper's original fight plan and without hesitation he put it into action. Skipper threw a jab under Reggie's ear, hearing the jaw bone shatter; Reggie clenched his eyes in pain. As he went to touch his face Skipper took the moment do deliver a palm thrust to Reggie's stomach, causing three lower rib bones to break. While Reggie began to cripple over in pain Skipper clapped both his hands on either side of Reggie's head, completely disorienting the man. His balance was already off so it didn't take too much to deliver a final leg swipe to bring the giant man down.

'What's the matter, gigantor, can't take a little pain?" Reggie attempted to get up, his sight blinded by pain. Just as he made a jab at Skipper, the ex-marine grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his opponent, throwing him off balance. One final kick to his back sent the once undefeated champion through the ropes into the crowd. Right before the very eyes of the spectators, the fight was over and Skipper had emerged victorious. A few moments of dead silence were soon followed by loud whoops of boisterous applause. The announcer grabbed Skipper's hand and thrust it into the air.

"OUR NEW CHAMPION!" He screamed into the microphone. Skipper tore his hand away and exited the ring. He hopped through the ropes down to his team. Just as he was buttoning up his shirt he felt a tap on his back. As Skipper turned around he came face to face with Archie, who was smiling a jester's smile.

"Congratulations, man!" He said shaking Skipper's hand with fake glee. Skipper knew that when the bets had been made who ever had bet on him had won a crap load of money and completely depleted Archie's 'income' supply. Archie glanced behind him and then back at Skipper, "uh, where's that twenty five you promised me?" Skipper took his wallet out of his coat pocket and pulled out the money, slapping it in Archie's hand but not letting go.

"You keep up your end of the deal." Archie nodded.

"I was just coming down here to tell ya that the bosses would like to see you," He said quickly pocketing the money, "Follow me," Skipper slipped on his overcoat and followed Archie up a flight of stairs to a back room. He opened the door and allowed the team to walk in ahead of them, "Here's the guys you wanted to see." Archie said quickly before shutting the door; leaving Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, and Private standing in the room alone.

The room itself was of relatively good size. A book case stood to their left filled with liquor bottles. A large poker table, doubling as a work desk, was situated not far from it. Against the back wall was a large window overlooking the ring. One large man was leaning against it watching every movement of the people scattering about below them. Another man was at the book case pulling down a bottle of what looked to be wine.

"What's your name?" The man against the window asked, not turning around.

"James Blake, this is my team."

"And their names?"

"Eli Kowalski, Rico Flintlock, and Peter Barry." Skipper said unfazed by the giants in the room.

"What exactly is your business here Mr. Blake?" The man against the window turned around to face them. From the light of the dim room and from what Skipper could see, the man that had been talking to them was Bada. His low voice also helped to give away just exactly who he was.

"Just wandering up here, wanted to see what all the fuss was about this place."

"Just wanderin? Dat don't seem very likely," The other man, Bing, said turning around from the book shelf with a bottle of Liquor.

"Won't cha's sit down?" Bada said trying to sound polite, but it just came out menacing. Skipper and the team hesitated.

"We don't bite, Mistah Blake," Bing said opening the bottle, "Wes wanna congratulate you on beating our champion." Skipper and the rest of the team sat down cautiously. Bing poured six glasses of what now looked to be wine and handed one glass to each of them.

"So what is your real purpose being here?" Bada said sitting down next to Skipper. Skipper glanced at Private and Kowalski, who were sitting next to each other. Just as Private was about to answer Kowalski placed a hand over his mouth to keep him from spilling the reason. Skipper hesitated, he hated to be so forward about things, but this was necessary.

"We're here investigating a murder."

"Murder? Are yous da guys who put Anderson away?" Skipper nodded.

"We run a modest boxing ring here Mistah Blake," Bing said taking a sip of the wine, "We don't want no trouble."

"Double negative," Kowalski said quietly, Skipper shushed him.

"And we sure as hell didn't kill anybody." Bada added.

"We have reason to be suspicious of everyone involved with our victim and you guys are the last suspects."

"Mistah Blake wes swear, we didn't hurt no body." Bing said with a hint of desperation.

"Who's did you say was da victim?" Bada asked.

"One of your regulars, Vincent Riatonni."

"Mad Rat kicked the bucket?" Bing said with surprise.

"More like he had his bucket kicked for him." Kowalski stated.

"We have interrogated those close to Mr. Riatonni and have discovered that he spent a lot of time here. Robbed you fine gentlemen of some money."

"So you tink we killed him? Just because of some little money scam that happened eight years ago?" Skipper's mind went blank.

"Wait, how long ago did you say it was?"

"Eight years. He weaseled some money outta a bet, caused his gang and another gang to be in undeclared war for quite some time." Bing started.

"Never quite got outta hand before though." Bada finished.

"Why not?" Kowalski asked.

"You kiddin? Mad Rat's gang is the toughest there is!" Bada commented taking another sip of wine.

"Even if he did weasel us outta some money, der's no way dat that anyone could do anything 'bout it."

"On an, oh shall we say, average, how much do you boys make per fight?" Kowalski asked. Bada and Bing looked at eachother.

"Oh probably 'bout tree thousand," Bing said scratching the back of his neck.

"Per fight," Bada added.

"Uh huh, and how many fights do you say you have per week?"

"'bout twenty." Bada said taking another sip of his wine.

"Skipper," Kowalski said in a hushed voice, "That's sixty thousand a week, that's two-hundred forty thousand a month!"

"How much, if you can remember, did Riatonni take from you guys?" Skipper asked.

"Ten thousand," Bada said, remembering it like it was yesterday. Private choked on the wine he was drinking.

"Ten thousand?!" he said wiping his chin

"Small price to pay for us but no harm done." Bing said. Skipper thought for a while.

"You on the other hand," Bada said pointing at Skipper, "You cost us a lot tonight. We lost a lot of money thanks to your little fight."

"My apologies then, I did not mean to deplete your money supply."

"eh, we'll make it up." Bing said, instigating a look of surprise from his brother, "Have you ever considered joining the boxing circuit? Pays a lot of money. . ."

"No thank you," Skipper said, "I've done enough fighting in four years to last me a life time. Besides I already got a job." Bing leaned back in his chair.

"Well if you do needs anything, come and talk to us Mistah Blake." Bing elbowed his brother in the stomach

"We'd be happy to help," Bada said with forced politeness.

"Thank you for the wine and conversation, gentlemen, but we better be going now." Skipper stood up with his team and walked to the door, down the flight of stairs and out the way they came in.

The cold air was quite a shock to the boys. Private shuddered at the night air.

"What on earth was that?!" Private said surprised, "I've never known you to walk away from a suspect like that!" Skipper didn't look at Private.

"They didn't do it." Skipper said thinking.

"Oh really? How on earth do you know?" Private said trying to pull his coat tighter around him.

"Private, one more snap like that and I'll consider it insubordination, understood?" Private looked down at his feet.

"Understood, Skippah."

"There's no way that Mad Rat took enough money from those guys to actually make an impact. And after eight years, Riatonni would have been dead long ago if they held a grudge."

"He took ten thousand from them!" Private said surprised, "How is that not a lot?"

"Private look at the statistics," Kowalski said doing the math in his head, "In less than a month Bada and Bing could make up all of that stolen money plus some." Kowalski looked at Skipper, "But, Private does have a point, if Bada and Bing weren't the killers, then who was?" Skipper paused.

"I'm not sure. We're going to have to go back over the evidence, all of it. Rethink our strategy, there must have been something that we missed." Skipper looked at his watch and then turned around to face the boys, "Be at the office first thing tomorrow morning." The boys nodded. Rico pointed at Skipper.

"Home?" Skipper shook his head again.

"No, I forgot my house key back at the office."

"And then are you going home?" Private asked, Skipper nodded his head.

"Why are you so concerned with me getting home? I know you want Marlene to be safe but-" Private looked down at the ground as if he had something to hide, "Private?" Private did not answer, "Private, would you tell me what wrong?" Private paused for a long time and then took a deep breath.

"I um, called Marlene the other night, when you stayed late at the office. She seemed a bit worried about you. About, oh dear how do I put this, about your relationship?" Private offered.

"She thinks I'm cheating on her?" Skipper said, slightly outraged. His mind made a quick flash to when Katrina had kissed him.

"No, I- I never said that. . ."

"But you implied it."

"I told her she was being silly! But, as your friend, if you do truly care about Marlene you'll be home on time."

"Since when did you have clearance to give me a curfew?" Skipper said slightly hurt.

"Since-" Private sighed in defeat, "Since I care about you and Marlene and I don't want to see either of you getting hurt." Skipper nodded.

"Alright, Private," He said placing a hand on his shoulder, "I'll be home on time."

Skipper got out of the taxi cab in front of the office. He looked up at the building.

"Why on earth would Private be concerned about that? Why should I be concerned?" He started up the stairs, still talking to himself, "That was one slip up! And they don't know about it. As long as she stays out of my head I should be fine." Just as he walked into the office and turned on the light, much to his dismay, he saw Katrina herself sitting on his desk.

"Looking for these?" She said twirling Skipper's house keys around her finger. Skipper didn't say anything for a while, he just looked at her. Her coat had been hung on the back of his chair. Her silver heels, the same ones she had walked in here the first time with, dangled from her feet like diamonds. Her short sleeved button up blouse was partially undone. Her skirt was far too short to be decent for this weather and was riding up to show off her legs. Skipper walked up to her and held out his hand.

"Give me my keys and get out," He said looking her dead in the eyes. She laughed.

"Oh Mr. Blake, you're stressed again." She said her eyes glazed over with lust, "Do you need me to help you with that?" Skipper made a grab for her keys, but she quickly moved them out of his reach.

"I want you to give me my keys and get the hell out of my office."

"But it's my right to be here." She moved the keys again after another failed grab attempt.

"As a concerned widow, yes. As a tempting vixen, no."

"So you do think I'm a vixen?" Skipper mentally slapped himself.

"Just give me my keys!" He said trying to grab them, accidentally knocking Katrina onto her back on top of the desk. He finally grabbed the keys when he noticed what position he had put himself in. He didn't move a muscle. Katrina laughed and then whispered into his ear.

"Oh now look at what you've done Mr. Blake," She kissed his cheek, "You're fiancé is obviously making you stressed, I can help you," She kissed his jaw, "Just give in." Without thinking about the reciprocation of his actions, Skipper kissed her, hard. Katrina smiled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. He pulled her up off her back, still having her sit on the desk. Katrina ran her tongue over Skipper's lip, begging for entrance, he complied. Katrina slipped his coat off his shoulders and undid the first button on his shirt.

Skipper's mind was blank, for the first time in months he did not think. In the back of his head a small voice was yelling at him, but it was so masked by pent up lust that he did not hear it. Nor did he hear the gasp of horror that came from Marlene when she saw what was happening right before her very eyes. Marlene ran down the stairs and called a cab to take her home, away from this terrible enlightenment. She could not help but cry.

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*In Form of the batman theme song* DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA, DRAMA MAN! lol I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!! Who do you think murdered Riatonni!?!? HMMMM?????? R&R! Reviews make me quite happy inside


	8. The Warning

WOOOOOOO! ANOTHER CHAPTER!!!! Yes, i felt a need to write this week. . . that and Ihad a four day weekend, lol. So here's another weekly update for you wonderful people!!! The last chapter got such a good response and I was so happy that you guys liked it! ENJOY CHAPTER 8!

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Skipper fixed his tie in the mirror in the office. He smoothed his hair back down to where it looked relatively normal. Just as he was finishing, Katrina came up behind him and placed a kiss on his neck.

"I told you I could help," She said quietly, kissing Skipper's neck. He turned around quickly and grabbed her hands so she couldn't move them again.

"This was a onetime thing," he said harshly, he wasn't totally proud of himself. Sure it allowed him to take out his frustration but the pangs of guilt had already started. He was regretting it already.

"Of course, James," She said, the coy sparkle coming back into her eye as she used his first name, "A onetime thing." Katrina finished buttoning up her blouse again and grabbed her coat. She had gotten what she wanted and was now headed to the door and hopefully out of Skipper's life for a while. She paused at the door and turned around, "Until you want my help again that is," She said with a wink. Katrina walked out of the door without another word to Skipper.

He sat down at his desk and put his head in his hand and did the only thing he could to release stress, he screamed. After he brought his head up again his eyes fell upon the clock and Private's warning rang in his head, _just be home on time_. He cursed, grabbed his coat and headed out the door. He called the first taxi that passed.

"Get me home as fast as humanly possible," He said to the cabbie.

"Sure thing, mate," He said. Skipper paused.

"Excuse me?" He said, trying to decode the accent he had just heard.

"Is there a problem, sir?" the cabbie said speeding down the street.

"What is your name?"

"Liam," The cabbie said pointing to his license which was taped to the back of the seat. Skipper looked it over quickly in the dim light of the New York street lamps. The driver had red hair and brown eyes. His name was indeed Liam. For a second, Skipper had feared that it had been the same mobster who he had put away eight years ago. He shook his head; this whole mess he had gotten himself into had just put him on edge. The cab pulled up in front of Skipper's apartment building. He looked up and saw that the light in his apartment was on still. He looked at his watch; Marlene shouldn't still be up by now.

Skipper came into the apartment quietly. As he opened the door he heard choked back crying and movement in his bedroom. He hung up his hat and coat and walked toward the bedroom cautiously. His mind jumped around. He wondered if Marlene's parents were alright. She was quite close to them and if something had happened she would be out of the door faster than anything. He came to the bedroom door and saw Marlene packing a large bag, crying.

"What are you doing?" He said worried. Marlene walked right up to Skipper and slapped him hard across the cheek. It stung Skipper like fire, "What the hell was that for?!" He said angrily. She went to slap him again, but he caught her hand.

"You should know damn well what that was for you bastard," She said venomously through tears, tearing her hands away as she resumed packing.

"Marlene, why are you packing?" He said pleading. She threw a pair of her shoes into the bag.

"I'm going to stay at Gloria's for a while," She said turning back to the closet.

"Why on earth are you going to Gloria's?" Skipper asked, trying to calm her down. Marlene rested her hands on top of the bag and took and deep breath trying to calm herself.

"Honestly, James, I don't know if you have suffered from some kind of fast acting amnesia, or head trauma, or just plain stupidity but you- you of all people- should know damn well why I'm leaving," She turned to face him, the fire in her eyes, "Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

"No, but you could tell me why you're all of a sudden this pissed off at me." She didn't look at him again. She paced to the closet back to her suitcase, throwing her clothes in.

"I should have listened to my own instinct," She muttered. Skipper stopped her mid pace.

"Would you please tell me what the hell is going on!" Skipper said almost shaking her.

"Get your disgusting hands off of me!" She said shaking his hands from her.

"Marlene, please. . ." She tossed another skirt into her bag and turned to face him.

"Working late, huh?" She said with her hands on her hips, "That's some big case you have there, Skipper. Blond and pretty and oh yeah, not you're fiancé!" She yelled at him. It hit Skipper like a ton of bricks, Marlene had thought that he was cheating.

"Marlene I haven't-"

"Haven't what, James? Whatever you're going to tell me is a lie, I know it. I _saw_ you with her!" She said fighting back angry tears. She pushed passed him and pulled the last blouse out of the closet and threw it into her bag. Skipper now knew that Marlene had seen what had occurred in his office and he was ashamed of it. Marlene shut her suitcase forcefully and began to walk out of the room. Skipper ran after.

"Marlene, don't do this. It was one moment of weakness, I'm sorry!" He said. He stepped in front of her just as she was about to reach the door, "Please forgive me."

"Move."

"Marlene, please I love you and-"

"Don't you dare pull that shit with me!" She said forcefully, refusing to look him in the eyes, "I trusted you James, and you broke that trust. I have to go now." She set down her bag for a moment and fiddled with her hand. She grabbed Skipper's hand and made him hold it out. In his empty palm she slapped down her engagement ring, "And as far as I can see, the wedding is off. I don't want to see you, anyone from the team, or anybody having to do with you ever again, do you understand?" Skipper stood there dumbfounded looking at the ring.

"But-"

"Do you understand?" Skipper moved to the side to let her through. She paused as she got out into the hallway and took a deep breath, "I'll think about it, Skipper," She said quietly, "But it doesn't look good." With that Marlene shut the door and walked out of the apartment building, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

The door shut, leaving Skipper alone in his apartment. He stood there as if in a surreal state of mind. His hand slacked and the ring dropped to the floor with a hollow ping. After a moment of silence, sadness was replaced by anger. Skipper let out a frustrated yell and punched the wall. He looked down and saw his knuckles covered in his own blood and a satisfying hole had been left in the drywall. He stooped down to pick up the ring in his newly bloodied hand, not feeling any pain at all. He sat down on the couch and looked at the ring in silence and then did the only thing he could think of to do. He cried.

The next day, Skipper was late to come into the office. He did not sleep the rest of the night and two vases, several dishes, a cabinet, and the bathroom mirror were now broken because of Skipper's own frustration with himself. As much as he didn't want to go to work the next day because of the pain he felt in his chest, he had to. Skipper walked into the office to find the rest of the boys crowded around Private's desk, looking over evidence. Kowalski was fiddling with a box of the tapes they had collected. Rico was looking through notes that he had taken. Private was carefully examining pictures of the crime scene and the three pieces of evidence they had been able to take from the apartment. Private was the first one to notice Skipper as he walked in. He observed his leader.

"Good morning, Skippah," He said cautiously. Rico turned around in his chair and acknowledged the commanding officer with a head tilt.

"Morning, sir," Kowalski said not looking up from the box, trying to find the interrogation tapes.

"Is there something wrong, Skippah? You don't look too good," Private said in a worried tone.

"I didn't get enough sleep last night," Skipper said in a monotone voice. He glanced quickly at his desk, but did not dare to sit down there. He quickly pulled his chair around his desk as if it would explode if the two so much as touched and sat down at Private's desk. He pulled out his own notes, "So where are we in this case?" He asked.

"Found them!" Kowalski said pulling out two tape reels.

"I think we should start at the beginning again, retrace our steps," Private offered in an optimistic tone.

"Good thinking, Private," Skipper flipped through his notes to the first day of the case, back when he interviewed the land lady, Alice, "Says here that there were two people fleeing the crime scene before Miss Alice called the police."

"So it was definitely a pair of people who did the crime." Kowalski said, pulling the recorder out from under the table.

"Right, Private is there any evidence that we may have missed in the actual apartment?" Rico interrupted with eager mumbles of evidence. He wrote something down on the pad of paper and handed it to Skipper. He read it over quickly before turning to Rico, "What do you mean the gun wasn't a Colt .22!?" He said a little angrier than he probably should have been. Rico flipped the notepad to a new page where all the measurements were written down along with the name of the gun they were looking for, "A German Luger?" He said handing the paper to Kowalski.

"That would appear to be the gun we are looking for, Sir. The barrel can also take .22 bullets, thus making it easy to confuse it with a Colt .22."

"Then how do you know for sure what gun it is?" Skipper said sarcastically. Rico slapped his forehead and turned the page again to a picture he had taped down to the pad. It was a close up picture of a dent in the side of the drywall fairly close to the bullet holes. Skipper pulled a magnifying glass out of a drawer in the desk and looked closely at the picture. There, clear as day in the side of the wall was a dent that read Parabellum. It was backwards of course, but Skipper could still tell what it was. He tossed the pad of paper back at Rico, "So now we know what kind of gun we're actually looking for."

"But where have you ever seen such a gun outside of the war?" Kowalski asked with suspicion.

"No where that I know of," Skipper said looking at the other pictures Private had in front of him, "But we'll find it." Skipper picked up the ring that was in front of Private. It was obviously Mad Rat's wedding ring. Skipper's mind flashed back to last night and he quickly set the ring down again.

"Any clue why he would take this off?" Private asked, now fiddling with the ring. Skipper shook his head.

"No idea," he picked up the piece of purple silk and examined the tear, "And this didn't match anything in the house? None of Mad Rat's clothes?" Private shook his head.

"Nothing matched it, Sir." Private picked up the small pouch of white powder, "What is this sir?" Skipper quickly took it out of Private's hands and placed it back down on the table.

"Drugs," he said.

"Maybe the drug dealer did it," Kowalski offered. Skipper shook his head.

"A drug dealer wouldn't be able to get his hands on a German Luger," He stated a matter of factly. Kowalski finished hooking up the tape to the recorder.

"Let's listen to the interviews again; maybe there was something we missed." Kowalski hit the replay button and Katrina's voice came over the speaker. Skipper internally cringed at the sound of her voice. He sat through the recording as calmly as he could. Once it was over he let out a sigh of relief. Kowalski paused, "She said she was at her parents' house?" He said looking at Skipper. He nodded.

"Alice vouched for her, she wasn't anywhere near the apartment when the murder happened." Kowalski began to hook up Doris's interview as Skipper sat in silent thought. They listened to that interview as well. Just as the one before, there was nothing there worth investigating.

The day went on, everything they had been through had been resurfaced and sifted through multiple times. The sun rose to the highest point in the sky and then began to settle behind the buildings of the west side by the time they had arrived at the present. Skipper was idly listening to the resift of evidence. Nothing rang a bell. He leaned against the table and felt something in his coat pocket. He quickly reached into it and pulled forth the journal. Private looked at it with interest.

"Skippah? What on earth is that?"

"Mad Rat's journal." Private laughed a little.

"A hard cracked mob boss kept a journal?"

"Focus, Private," Kowalski said looking at the journal with interest.

"It's not much," Skipper said, "It just says little stuff, like about Doris's affair with Mad Rat, stuff about Barry, some guy named Mitch-"

"How long have you had this evidence, Skipper?" Kowalski asked a little surprised, the boys hadn't heard any of this before today.

"We have no idea what you're talking about, sir," Private said. Skipper mentally slapped himself.

"I've had this…. Maybe…. Around…. Since the beginning of the case?" The team groaned out loud in frustration.

"Skipper! You need to share this stuff with us!" Kowalski scolded

"Why on earth didn't you bring this to us?" Private asked

"I didn't think it would be much help," Skipper offered. Rico shook his head a little hurt. Kowalski gave a sigh.

"We'll worry about it later, can you start at the beginning. Why was Doris in an affair with Mad Rat?" Skipper took a deep breath and retold everything he had read. He had already been doomed for not coming clean about something once, he wasn't about to do it again.

". . . and I still have no idea who this Mitch guy is." Skipper said finishing his retelling. So it wasn't all of what he had read, he left out the part about Max. It was better that the boys didn't know about the kid, it could hurt him. Kowalski thought for a bit.

"Could Mitch be the killer?" Skipper shook his head.

"He bailed back in," Skipper flipped through the tiny black book, "February. He got a call from someone and quit the gang."

"Do you think he lived?" Private asked as the blood drained from his face. Skipper shrugged.

"They usually don't leave alive. But we'll never know."

"How far have you read in this?" Kowalski asked.

"Till his June entry, there's really nothing of importance," Skipper said skimming the page, "Just talking about his ally agreement with Barry, a continuing problem with another gang, doesn't give the name, his drug arrangements." Kowalski rested his head in his hands. The clock in the Central Park Zoo chimed the seven o' clock bells. The boys were roused from their frustration, "Its late boys, you've done good today. Get home," Skipper said without another word. Rico and Kowalski passively complied, they were exhausted. Private lingered for a moment.

"Is everything alright, Skippah?" he asked as soon as Kowalski shut the door. Skipper shook his head.

"Marlene's gone." Private let out a gasp of horror.

"What? Why?"

"She saw me," Skipper paused for a while. Thinking about how to put this into a way that wouldn't make him look bad, "talking with Miss Riatonni and thought I was cheating on her and left."

"Do you want me to talk to her, sir? I can probably convince her that-"

"No Private, she just needs to cool down a bit."

"But-"

"That's an order Private, do not speak to Marlene until I can talk to her. Do you understand, solider?" Private nodded and gathered his things.

"See you tomorrow then, sir." As the door shut behind Private Skipper sat in his chair. He rested his head in his hands again and sighed in frustration. Today had been hell and now he was going home to an empty apartment. He looked at the phone on his own desk and was so tempted to call Marlene, just to check up. But instead he decided to take his own advice and leave her alone for a while. Scooted his chair over to his own desk and picked up the picture he had of her on his desk. He looked at it for a while and smiled, remembering how happy they had been. But that smile quickly faded away as he remembered the fight from last night. He placed it back on the desk face down. Just as he was pulling away the cup of pens he kept near the desk toppled over. He groaned in annoyance.

"Damn it," He mumbled to himself, getting down on his hands and knees as he began to pick up the fallen pens. As he gathered them he heard the door open again. He ignored the sound, thinking it was Private again coming back out of concern. But as he reached for a pen that had rolled farther away he saw a pair of familiar silver heels standing in front of his desk.

"What are you doing James?" Katrina asked with a hint of mischief. Skipper attempted to stand up, forgetting he was still under his desk, and his hit his head hard on the bottom of the confounded piece of furniture.

"Shit!" He said grabbing the back of his head in pain as he stood up. Katrina giggled.

"Aw, are you alright?" Skipper just glared at her, "Let me help." She went to touch his head but he moved out of her grip so fast that she almost fell over.

"You've helped enough, thank you," He said coldly as he put the pens back. Katrina sat on top of his desk, he moved towards the back wall instinctively.

"Is something bothering you James?" She asked looking him dead in the eyes. He tore his own gaze away; he would not give into temptation again.

"Yes, you. Get out of my office." Katrina laughed again.

"You don't want me to leave, James."

"Yes I do, you've done enough here. Get. Out. Now." She reached over and pulled on his tie, pulling him close.

"But I thought we could have a little fun again." He pulled his tie out of her hand.

"No, I told you it was a onetime thing."

"But you look so sad, I could help you again."

"I don't need your brand of help!" He basically yelled at her.

"Why are you getting mad at me James?"

"Do not call me James! You have no right to use my first name," He said angrily.

"Why are you yelling at me?" She pleaded, a hint of sadness laced in her voice. Skipper paused in frustration. If he was any louder he would arouse the suspicion of the office neighbors.

"Get out, Mrs. Riatonni."

"I don't want to leave."

"If you don't leave, I will call other law enforcement officials." Katrina's eyes turned cold.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me," He said pulling the phone closer to him. She placed a hand on his and looked at him sweetly.

"What have I honestly done to deserve this?" She asked her voice coated in honey.

"You have ruined my life." He stated harshly, "My fiancé left me, and now I have nothing to live for."

"You have me," She said as soothingly as possible.

"I don't want you." He said flicking her hand away from his, "Now get out, or I will call the police." A deadly fire occurred in her eyes as she glared at him.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me the first twenty times. I will stay on your case but if you show up here again I will drop it faster than hot cakes." She scoffed and gathered her coat and walked to the door. Just as she was approaching the door she turned around and glared at Skipper.

"Wrong choice, Mr. Blake," She said with venom, "You just made a choice that's going to make your world come crashing down." Skipper crossed his arms and stood unmoved behind his desk.

"I'd like to see you try," He said offering his own challenge. Katrina let out a groan of disgust and slammed the door. Skipper thought in the back of his mind that he should be more concerned. But the other, more prominent part of him had enough of this bull shit and was relieved that he had finally gotten rid of Katrina and could now focus on the case. . . Right?

Skipper walked over to the window and saw Katrina walking out to a taxi. She turned around to glare at him. Skipper waved at her with a sarcastic happy smile on his face. She glared at him and slammed the taxi door. He watched the yellow abomination speed off and smiled to himself. She would no longer meddle in his life. . . Right?

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So.... did you guys enjoy it? I personally enjoyed the little Skipper sass at the end, lol. I hope you liked it! R&R!!!!!!! Seriously, I love it when I hear feedback. Who do you think killed Riatonni?!? HMMMMMMMMMM?????? R&R! I love you all!!!


	9. The Call

oh. my. red squirrel! Ok, well here we are folks... the long awaited chapter 9!!!! I really hope you guys like it... blood sweat and tears whent into it... well actually no... more like advil, coca-cola, and a smige of insanity... but that's another story for another time...

DISCLAIMER!: I don't own the Penguins of Madagascar, they belong to Dreamworks, Nickelodian and Tom McGrath

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Skipper woke up to an empty apartment for the countless time. It had been a little over a week since Marlene had left. He had even spoken to her since then. He didn't know if she was alright, if she was safe, if he could handle this. He hadn't seen Katrina since then either, for that he was happy, but her words of warning still rung in his head like the bells of a funeral march. Personally it freaked him out, but he still wouldn't let this get to him. He had to finish the case. As soon as it was over he assumed that things would go back to normal. He assumed that he would be able to get Marlene back and everything would be alright.

Skipper was due to meet the boys in the office for the fifth time this week at eight hundred hours. Since that first day back they had been going over every little piece of evidence. After this retrace of steps they were quite certain that whoever murdered Riatonni had done this before. There was no trace of the killer. Kowalski had half a mind to go to the science community for forensic help, but Skipper denied him. He wouldn't have a third party involved in this investigation; he couldn't afford to look after more people.

As he hauled himself out of bed he walked over to his dresser and picked up the little black journal. As he picked it up his eyes fell upon Marlene's ring, he hadn't touched it at all. It was as if it had some spell on it that kept Skipper from throwing it in the bottom of some box. It gave him hope. He gazed at the small ring for a while before heading into the kitchen with the journal to make himself a cup of coffee and breakfast. The apartment seemed so empty now that Marlene was gone. Skipper shook his head to try and shake her from his mind as he threw the coffee pot under the maker and sat down at the breakfast table. He opened the journal to where he left off.

_August 8, 1947_

_Katrina seems so distant now. She's been disappearing constantly. I haven't the _

_slightest idea of where she's running off to. She won't tell me. Well, she tells me_

_that she's going to visit a friend, but I'm pretty sure she's lying. If she is, it won't_

_take too long for me to figure it out._

_Those damn jokers are still on my back. Eight years and they still can't let it go._

_They're saying that they're bringing the case back to court. If Mr. Paul knows _

_what's good for him, he won't parole the bastard. But we've all seen what slip_

_ups that damn Judge has gotten us into. Can't trust him. But if that damn azzie _

_had watched his back when the cops came around we wouldn't be in this stinking_

_mess. They just can't let it go that it was their fault._

Skipper sipped at his coffee as he got ready for the day. It gave him time to think about the entry he had just read. It didn't seem to stand out from any of the other ones he read. He thought that he should let Kowalski look at it. He was better at analyzing this stuff. Skipper still didn't know who Mad Rat was talking about, or who the fight was with. And he sure as hell was positive there was no judge Paul anywhere in the New York judicial circuit. Although, the one part he did find interesting was the part about Katrina. Where on earth was she running off to in all her spare time? Who on earth got arrested? And what was the connection between the two? These questions and more swarmed Skipper's head as he headed out the door.

Upon coming to the office he saw Kowalski getting out of his own taxi. Skipper stopped him before he reached the door.

"Morning, Skipper," Kowalski said politely.

"Kowalski, I want you to look at this," He said handing the book over, "I can't find anything in here. I'm not as scholarly as you are. See if you can find anything. If this guy messed up on his grammar I want to know about it." Kowalski took the book from Skipper and nodded his head. Personally, Skipper was secretly glad to be rid of the cursed thing. It helped get Katrina further out of his mind.

Kowalski flipped the book over and over again in his hand, flipped through the pages. Skipper knew that if there was any evidence in there, Kowalski would be able to find it. With that matter taken care of the two walked up the stairs into the office. Private and Rico were already there, looking at the mass of evidence on Skipper's desk, or rather lack thereof. Twice now they had gone through this and still they were at a loss. Or at least that's what Skipper thought. As soon as he hung his coat up Private excitedly ran over to his leader with a small slip of paper.

"Skippah! Look at this," He said handing the small slip of paper to Skipper. It was a receipt. Skipper looked at the small print, but before he could come to his own conclusions the overly proud Private spoke up, "It's a receipt!"

"I can see that Private," Skipper said with a slight hint of amusement, "What's it for?"

"Its for a 1942 Parrabellum German Luger gun!" Skipper looked back down at the receipt. Sure enough there was the name of the item, clear as day.

"Where on earth did you get this from?" He asked suddenly quite proud of his protégé for finding such a wonderful piece of evidence.

"That army surplus store down off of east twenty-Eighth Street, on the upper east side; they said that when the war ended they got a whole mass of them. Only sold one so far and it's the only store in the city that sells them! Everywhere else refuses to sell them because they're 'unpatriotic'." Privates said with a smirk. He himself wasn't a citizen of the United States yet and even he knew what a ridiculous concept this was. If he knew anything, it was that this nation had far too much pride to let a specific make of gun ruin it.

"Did the owner remember the guy who bought it?" Private looked down in despair.

"I didn't ask," he said in a quiet voice. Skipper groaned and grabbed his coat.

"Come on boys, we have another lead and I'm not about to lose it!" He said walking out the door. Private looked at Rico and shrugged in an embarrassed manner. Rico just shook his head and followed Skipper out the door.

The store was old, but still standing. Guns, knives, uniforms, and steamer trunks lined the walls. Rico's face lit up as soon as he walked through the door. Skipper spotted a man polishing a gun behind the counter. He wasn't too old, probably just a tad older than Skipper, he had light brown hair and a simple face; Skipper guessed he must be the owner and walked over to him.

"Excuse me," He said leaning on the counter, "Are you the owner here?" The man looked up and motioned something with his hands and shook his head, but he didn't speak.

"I am the proprietor here," Another man said coming from the back, he looked quite similar to this other man with the exception of their hair color, his was dark brown. He spoke with a British accent, "What can I help you with?" He said. Skipper looked at the other man and then back at the new one, "Oh yes, pardon my manners. My name is Mason Barker; this is my brother, Phil." Skipper extended a hand to Mason who shook it.

"My name is James Blake,"

"The detective?" Mason asked, Skipper nodded, "Oh yes, one of your boys was in here the other day, looking for a German Luger gun, if I'm not mistaken?" Skipper nodded.

"Do you remember the person who bought it?"

"I didn't sell it," Mason said, "Phil?" Phil signed something for quite a long time. Skipper guessed that the poor man was a mute, similar to Rico, but at least Rico could speak small words. He raised an eyebrow at Mason as Phil left to go to the back.

"Is he alright?" Skipper asked pointing to the curtain that lead to the back room. Mason nodded.

"Poor soul, born deaf," He said looking through a box on the back shelf, "He can read lips, but as far as speaking goes I'm afraid he's at a loss." Skipper nodded, Mason pulled out a receipt, "German Luger Gun, purchased October 29th, two hundred and fifty dollars?" Mason peered over his glasses at Skipper who nodded.

"That's the one we're looking for. Did your brother remember anything about it?" Mason nodded.

"He said it was a relatively tall man, green eyes, dressed in a brown jacket with a black armband and brown hat, awfully rude…"

"Did he remember why the man needed the gun?" Mason shook his head.

"That's just it; he demanded the gun and bullets, paid for it in cash and just left without another word." Skipper sighed; he would have asked what the man sounded like, but now that he knew that Phil was a mute it wouldn't have been much help. Mason turned around and placed the receipt back in the box; Skipper noticed a picture sitting on the back counter.

"What's that?" Skipper asked pointing to the picture; Mason picked it up and handed it to Skipper. It was of a lovely young woman, she had a flower in her dark hair and her light eyes shone through the camera. She looked as if she was on a boat and seemed very happy about it for her smile was intoxicating, Skipper couldn't help but smile along with her.

"Phil's wife," Mason said sadly, "Murdered eight years ago." Skipper looked up quickly.

"Murdered?" Mason nodded sadly, "What was her name?"

"Lucinda, but he called her Lulu, only word he actually managed to voice. Thankfully the scoundrel who murdered her was found and put in prison." Suddenly Skipper's mind snapped. Lulu….

"Can I get her full name?" Mason nodded.

"Lucinda Mary Barker, she moved out here with her parents in 1929. Phil met her not long after." Skipper's mind rushed through what he had experienced. He had heard that name before, or read it somewhere, or…. And then it hit him. She was the one that Anderson murdered all those years back, "We actually can't thank you enough for finding him," Mason said snapping Skipper out of his trance.

"You said her nickname was Lulu?" He nodded. Finally the pieces were coming together.

"Thank you very much," He said shaking Mason's hand, "Boys! We have a lead," Skipper said leaving the store as his friends obediently followed. But what was waiting for them none of them would have expected.

The taxi pulled up on the alongside the office building, it was surrounded by cop cars and from where Skipper was standing he could clearly see Officer X poking through his desk. Skipper inwardly groaned, _what on earth do these guys want now?!_ He asked himself. But as soon as he got out of the car a couple of cops approached him.

"James Blake?" One of them asked.

"Yes?" Skipper said harshly.

"Officer X wants to talk to you," the officer then noticed the rest of the team, "all of you."

"Skippah?" Private asked innocently, "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure Private, but if the entire force is down here it can't be good." Skipper and the rest of the team was lead up their familiar stairs into the office where officers swarmed the place, digging through the trash can, file cabinets, desk drawers, and anything they could get their grubby hands on. At first no one noticed them coming into the room. Skipper loudly cleared his throat and all eyes turned to them.

"Everyone except those who I specifically told to stay, get out." Officer X said, "Sit down, Skipper," He said pointing to a chair.

"Well this is my office," Skipper said harshly, "I should be the one inviting you to sit down." Regardless of the matter, all four pulled up chairs around Skipper's desk. Skipper thought this was humiliating, being talked to by Officer X as if they were school children being scolded by the school principle.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" Kowalski asked politely. Officer X sighed.

"I'm afraid so, or I wouldn't be here."

"What seems to be the issue?" Private asked. Officer X pointed to Skipper.

"What?!" Skipper said outraged, standing up, "What on earth did I do!?"

"You have broken force policy number 126."

"Which is…?" Private asked, he didn't quite know the code yet.

"Any member of the New York City Police Department or partnering detective agency may not partake in the usage of any illegal substances." Kowalski whispered to Private.

"Ah I see… which means?"

"Drugs, Private," Skipper said crossing his arms as he glared at Officer X, "Which I have done none of!" He said defensively.

"Skipper, sit down," X said calmly. Skipper obeyed.

"What on earth is going on here? I have not done any drugs at all!" Officer X snapped and another officer handed him a folder.

"These pictures would say otherwise," X began pulling out several pictures of Skipper talking with Max. Skipper knew that they were having a conversation about the case, but he could tell from the angle of the pictures that he looked like he was buying something, "As does this," X said pulling out the small baggie of white powder that they had obtained from the crime scene.

"That is not mine," Skipper said pointing to the bag, "We found it at the crime scene."

"I want to believe you Skipper, but you have to look at this from my point of view," X said indicating the pictures. Skipper gave out a frustrated sigh.

"I was talking to him about the case."

"Case?"

"The Riatonni case, Max-"

"Max?"

"That's the kid's name."

"So you know his name? On a personal level?" Skipper glared at the smirking officer.

"Regardless… knew Mad Rat and was giving me evidence," Officer X smirked and held up the bag again.

"Evidence like this?"

"NO NOT EVIDENCE LIKE THAT!" Skipper yelled, standing up again; Private put a hand on his shoulder trying to calm him down. Officer X sighed.

"I really hate to do this to you boys," He said with fake sadness.

"Do what to us?" Kowalski said cautiously.

"Because of the evidence against Skipper I'm removing you boys from the Riatonni case…"

"What?!" Private said.

"You- you can't do that to us!" Kowalski said desperately. Rico growled.

"We've worked too damn hard on this case and we're almost ready to crack it!" Skipper said forcefully.

"That's what you said back in October," Officer X said just as venomously, "I am also putting this office under NYPD control, since it is leased in Skipper's name…"

"We all helped pay for it!" Private pleaded.

"Well, in that case, I'm revoking all of your badges until the case is solved."

"What?!" Skipper, Private, and Kowalski all said at the same time.

"I haven't done anything to warrant this!" Skipper said angrily.

"Well then, we'll keep your badges until the case and your trial is complete."

"Trial?!"

"Yes, if what you say is true than you have nothing to fear." Officer X said, "Pack up your stuff, boys. I'll be back by five and if you aren't out of here by then, then you and I will have a problem and you don't want that," With that X and the other officers headed out the door. Skipper could do nothing but rest his head in his hands. There was a long silence between the boys. Private was the first to break it.

"Why didn't you tell us about this problem?"

"It's not a problem, Private," Skipper said angrily, venting at Private, "You know damn well that that bag of… whatever it is is not mine!" Kowalski sighed.

"Skipper, look at the evidence, on the one hand we have your word which I think we all want to believe."

"Want to believe?"

"On the other hand we have the hard evidence of Officer X and his team…. It's not exactly a fair fight Skipper."

"Wait, back up, what do you mean want to believe?" Again there was a long pause, "You guys don't honestly think that I've been doing this stuff behind your back do you?"

"You weren't exactly honest about the journal," Private said quietly.

"Right now we just don't know what to believe," Kowalski added. Rico nodded silently in agreement.

"You've got to be kidding me," Skipper said with amazement, "You guys don't believe me…." There was, yet again, another pause, "Get your shit and get out." He said.

"Ski-"

"That's an order Peter," Skipper said using Private's first name with venom. No one said another word as each of the boys began to gather their things. Skipper just sat at his desk in silence as he noticed his world was crashing down on him. His fiancé had left him, he'd lost his badge, he'd lost his business, and he had lost his friends, all in less than a week. Rico and Kowalski left the office with boxes of their stuff without even acknowledging Skipper. Private followed but paused briefly and looked at Skipper.

"We don't want to do this," he said quietly, "But we've really got no choice." With that Private left the room.

Skipper sat in the silence of the dark room. He glanced up at the only source of sound, the ticking clock hanging in the back of the room. It was the first thing they had put in the office and it would remain there long after Skipper was gone, he was sure of it. Skipper and Kowalski were very punctual people so it held a special place in their hearts and had gone up out of their need for it. Rico and Private had purchased it as a welcoming present for the team. Skipper managed a small smile as he began to pack up his things. Just as he was putting away his picture of Marlene the phone rang. Skipper was wary to pick it up for fear it was Officer X, he let it ring once… twice… by now Officer X would have hung up so Skipper picked up.

"Hello?"

"Skipper? Oh my god, thank god I was able to reach you," It was Marlene's friend Gloria, and she wounded frantic.

"Glo? Gloria! Calm down, what's wrong?"

"The apartment!"

"What's wrong with it!"

"Someone broke in! Skipper, please, help. The place is ransacked. Marlene's gone!" Skipper's heart nearly stopped.

"What?"

"Marlene's gone, she stayed home today because she wasn't feeling well. I came back and she was gone, the place is a disaster, they left a note… I- I don't know what to do! Help please." Skipper let the information sink in…. Marlene… gone… kidnapped, "Skipper? Are you there?" the frantic voice asked.

"I'll be over as soon as I can," he said quickly as he hung up the phone and dialed another number.

"Hello?" said a familiar British voice on the other end of the line.

"Private, call up Kowalski and Rico. I need your help, Marlene's gone."

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WOW! Ok, This was alot of fun to write... what will happen next?!? Hmmmm? well keep your guesses comming and I will update as soon as I can. Love you all, R&R plz!


	10. The Puzzle

Ok, my school's production of Cabaret has stolen my soul for the past month and a half, but guess what... I'M BACK! And I have a peace offering for you... A NEW CHAPTER!! So here it is my friends.... hopefully this will shead some light

Disclaimer: I do not own the Penguins of Madagascar.... I wish I did

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It was late, around eleven when Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, and Private arrived at Gloria's apartment in Harlem. A time when the scum of New York just started to rear its ugly head at the Cheshire cat smiling moon, a time for worry, particularly for Skipper, but most of all a time to find a kidnapper. Skipper hit the buzzer on the apartment door front. Gloria immediately answered and allowed them inside.

Gloria was a stout woman, and one of Marlene's best friends. She fit the norms of this society well. She was around twenty-five, a neat freak, and Negro, but that didn't stop Marlene from being friends with her. They worked in the same factory, although in different parts. Marlene had worked in the front, administration and such. Gloria on the other hand worked among the other blacks sewing the clothes for distribution. When Skipper saw her after coming into the apartment he could tell she was in shock. Her dark face had turned a sickly brown, the color had gone from her usually deep brown eyes, and she was shaking.

The apartment itself looked as if a tornado had swept through it without mercy. The coffee table sat in the middle of the room, over turned, pillows had been thrown from the musty old couch. But the most disturbing thing for Skipper was the door, like the one at Riatonni's apartment it had been kicked in. And Skipper knew that the last time he had seen that he had found the victim lying in cold blood on the floor. Skipper shook the mental image from his mind and set his men to work.

"Look for clues men, I'm not leaving this apartment until we have some idea of what happened to her, got it?" the boys nodded quietly, Private pulled Skipper aside quickly.

"Skippah, don't you think this might be a bad idea? We don't have our licenses."

"Our licenses were removed for the Riatonni case,"

"But what if the two are connected?" Skipper sighed.

"Think of it as a random act of kindness, we're doing our job as upstanding citizens of New York City. I want- We need- to find Marlene. I don't care if the two cases are related I'm not going to stop until we find her." With that Private nodded solemnly and began to look for clues. Skipper took Gloria into the kitchen and sat her down; she was shaking so badly that he thought she might fall over at any time, "Gloria, I need you to tell me exactly what happened. Please, for Marlene's sake." Gloria nodded slowly and began to think.

"I had left for work that day as usual. Marlene wasn't feeling well or at least that's what she said. I think she really missed you."

"She did?" Gloria nodded.

"She hasn't been her normal self since she came here. But she said that her head hurt, so she decided to stay home. I didn't object to anything, but when I came back the door had been kicked in and I found the apartment like this, there's a note on the couch, I didn't touch it."

"Was there anything unusual today at work?" Gloria shook her head.

"Nothing that I know about. There was a group of guys that I didn't know standing around the colored entrance. No one I knew. But other than that it was just a normal day. I saw someone go into administrations but that's pretty normal during a busy time at the factory, what with winter coming and all…"

"Wait, what did these guys look like?"

"Nothing particularly unusual, a few of them had dark hair, they looked like they were from somewhere around mid-town. They obviously knew each other… oh and they were all wearing black armbands."

"Black armbands?" Gloria nodded as Skippers eyes grew wide. He stormed back into the destroyed living room, "You boys found anything yet?!" He noticed Kowalski standing in the corning looking through the little black book, "Kowalski, now is not the time to be looking at books!"

"But-"

"Skippah! I found something!" Private held up a black armband that he had picked up from the ground. He walked it over to where Skipper and Gloria were standing.

"That's like the ones I saw those boys wearing outside the factory!" Gloria said astonished. Skipper looked it over in his hands; he knew that the boys outside the factory and the man who had come through administrations must have been connected to what happened here.

"Sir, you should probably look at some of this too," Kowalski said handing Skipper the black journal where he had marked several pages. Skipper flipped to the first one and re-read it, still he could find nothing wrong with it. He read the second marked page; again there was nothing that jumped out to him.

"You want to tell me what I'm looking at Kowalski?" Kowalski flipped to the first page and sat down on the couch with Skipper. He pointed at the first name in the January entry, "Mitch? You know who this guy is?"

"No, but I remember something about him."

"How can you remember something about someone you don't even know?" Gloria asked impatiently.

"It was at the Club, when you went back to talk to Vikarma that Darla lady was talking to Maurice. I remember her saying something about Mitch showing up at the club. Maurice said that he hadn't shown up yet. A few minutes later a man walked back into the club, he talked to Darla for a while and got a kiss from her."

"So?"

"As soon as Maurice called out to him as Mitch you came out of the back room, he hightailed it out of there as soon as he saw you. He was wearing an armband as well" Skipper nodded listening keenly to the story. Kowalski flipped to another page. The February entry, "He's mentioned here again, apparently Riatonni knew who this group was who called him."

"So?" Once again the pages flipped through Kowalski's fingers as he pointed to another entry, a short one, something Skipper had missed before.

"He joined them instead."

"Did he ever say who Mitch joined?" Kowalski shook his head.

"No sir, not directly at least."

"Meaning?"

"Look at this," Kowalski pointed to another word in a later entry, "He always capitalized the word jokers."

"So?"

"Skippah, think about it," Private started as he started to piece everything together, "What do you capitalize?" Skipper paused for a second, studying the handwriting hard.

"So it's a name."

"Who's name though is at a loss for me, sir," Kowalski said flipping to the last entry Skipper had read, "look at the date for this."

"August 8th?" Kowalski nodded.

"What were we doing that day?"

"I'm not a suspect Kowalski, and I don't have time for this guessing game, just tell me what the hell you're thinking." Skipper said with an intolerable attitude.

"That was the beginning of Anderson's appeal trial."

"What does that have to do with Marlene?" and then it hit Skipper like a ton of bricks. The armband in his hand had been black, just like the shirt that Katrina had brought in for evidence. Black was the color of the Gypsy Jokers, and who was their leader? None other than Joey Anderson. Skipper sat down on the couch in shock, "My god,"

"I'm sorry, Skippah," Private said empathetically. Skipper grabbed his coat and the note off of the recently righted coffee table.

"Come on, we have a little more work to do, boys."

"So what? You guys are gonna leave me here now?" Gloria said impatiently.

"On the contrary, Miss," Kowalski said kindly, "Given the circumstances I think it would be best if you stayed with us."

"you're going to have to keep up with us though," Private said politely.

"Are you guys coming?!" Skipper said from the stairwell. Rico, not wanting to wait, simply picked Gloria up and headed out the door with Kowalski and Private in tow.

"Skippah! Do you want to tell us exactly where we're going?"

'To my apartment, I have some of the evidence from the Riatonni case and I can't lose Marlene now!" Without hesitating the group, with Gloria in tow, followed.

The group got back to the apartment and no sooner had Skipper flung open the door than he was hunched over a cardboard box labeled Riatonni Case in the corner over flowing with a plethora of items. Skipper pulled out the two sound reels and his note pad, along with the shirt that Katrina had brought in.

"Do you ever clean this place?" Gloria asked impatiently, "And would you put me down!?" She said more angrily pounding on Rico's back as he was still carrying her. Rico put her down quickly and quietly. Private sat down on Skipper's couch.

"Are you sure there's something here that's going to tie this all together?" Skipper nodded as he rigged the voice recorder to play back Doris's reel. As soon as he got it to work everyone sat in silence until Skipper heard the one thing that he needed to hear.

"_Can you tell us anything about him that might attribute to this case?"_

"…_Yes, back in February…Barry was trying to work out an alliance with Mad Rat…I don't think it worked out though…. Something about Mad Rat cheating on a bet."_

"She was talking about the bet that Mad Rat made eight years ago." Skipper said putting the pieces together.

"What does that have to do with the alliance?"

"Nothing," Kowalski said after thinking for a second.

"Exactly," Skipper said with a sly smile on his face, his team and Gloria sat there confused, "It's an excuse that Barry gave her. I talked to him that day that we brought him to the hospital. The deal didn't go through because Katrina refused to see him. Barry had ties with Bada and Bing down at the ring, so this was the perfect excuse." Skipper finished his argument as he began unwrapping the shirt that Katrina had brought him.

"What the hell is that?" Gloria asked pointing horrified at the shirt.

"Evidence," He said removing the shirt from the paper, under the paper was the address of the butcher shop the paper had come from.

"Queens?" Kowalski said surprised, "What the hell is in Queens?"

"The Gypsy jokers, that's why the shirt is black," Skipper looked closely at the paper and noticed something he had not yet seen before, black paint; dried, black paint around the edges of the paper, the shirt had just dried by the time he got it, 'That little bitch," Skipper muttered under his breath.

"What?" Kowalski asked.

"Katrina, she's the one that brought me this but look," He pointed to the splattered black paint.

"The shirt was newly painted when you got it?" Private asked.

"I guess," Skipper said, "She's trying to frame someone." Kowalski flipped through the book.

"Skipper, look at the August entry again," he did, "Riatonni said that Katrina kept disappearing off to someplace, what if she was involved with Anderson?"

"That would tie her back to the boxing ring," Skipper said.

"What? She said she never went there," Private said with a confused look on his face.

"That's what I was talking to Max about,"

"Max? The druggie?" Kowalski said astonished.

"I told you boys that's why I was talking to him. Anderson is the boxer that took the fall for Mad Rat eight years ago!" Skipper said putting some of the final pieces back into their puzzle. There was a pause, Rico put a hand up to his head and groaned as if he had a head ache, Private sat there in silent and confused astonishment.

"Ok, wait; let me try to put this together. Joey Anderson, the man that we put away eight years ago, was secretly meeting up with Katrina from _prison_ in the months before the trial. The alliance between Barry and Mad Rat didn't work out simply because Katrina didn't want Barry because she was meeting with Joey. And Joey is the guy that took the fall for Mad Rat down at the boxing ring, which destroyed his reputation and also offered Barry an excuse for the reason the alliance didn't work out. Is that what you're saying?" The boys looked as Skipper expectantly.

"Pretty much," he said leaning back at the couch.

"Great, but there's a few things I still don't understand," Kowalski said thinking.

"What?"

"One: who killed Mad Rat? Two : How does this relate to Marlene?" That sent Skipper's mind reeling back to the original purpose of all of this, Marlene was still missing and he had no idea where she possibly could be. Skipper put his head in his hands to think. There was a long pause.

'I still have no idea." Gloria stood quietly in the corner.

"Are you guys finished? Because I still have a note and an armband here that says 'I think I can find Marlene if you men are done complicating matters'," Skipper outstretched his hand.

"Let me see the note." Gloria handed him the note. Skipper studied the scrambled hand writing. The note was scrawled on old paper, Skipper couldn't make out what exactly it was but the writing was clear as day: _We told you that you would pay one day_. Skipper hung his head and handed the sheet to Kowalski.

"You want me to do an analysis on this, sir?" Skipper nodded.

"Do whatever you can; right now I just want this nightmare to be over with." Skipper was just about ready to give up. His head hurt from exhaustion, his license had been taken away, he was probably going to be convicted for illegal substance abuse, and just when he thought he had figured it all out he hadn't.

"Skipper," Kowalski touched him on the shoulder, rousing him from his current mind set of depression. Kowalski pointed to something on the paper, "It's wrinkled, but I think it's the same address as the one on the butcher paper." Skipper hung her head again.

"A butcher shop?" Kowalski nodded, "They're going to kill her." Kowalski grabbed both of Skipper's shoulders.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He said shaking Skipper by the shoulders, "Where is the commanding officer I followed through the insane humidity of the Philippines and the freezing cold Germany for four years?"

"Uh, Skippah?" Private meekly tried to interject.

"Hold on Private," Kowalski said returning to his rant, "Where is the commanding officer that managed to take down four Nazi's at once?"

"Skippah…"

"Not not Private," Kowalski said not straying from his rant mindset, "Where the is the commanding officer who has put countless criminals away and is the best damn-"

"SKIPPAH!" Private nearly screamed.

"What?" Skipper said looking at Private harshly for interrupting Kowalski's ego boosting rant.

"I have a question."

"What?" Private turned the journal to Kowalski and Skipper.

"Why is there a page torn out here?" Skipper snatched the book as fast as he possibly could. Kowalski stood peering over his shoulder.

"Um, yes, well it appears I may have missed that," Kowalski said shamefully.

"Look at the entry." Skipper pointed to it and began to read.

_October 29__th__, 1947_

_This is the last damn straw. He has been out of my life for nearly_

_Eight years, and now all of a sudden he tries to bring my _

_World crashing down. He has taken Katrina, my boys, even_

_The fucking media._

_I found out about Katrina last week, I kicked her out._

_No one messes with me like that. She had his _

_Handkerchief, I should have suspected that._

_I have to get rid of the both of them before-_

The page stopped there. Kowalski took the book gingerly out of Skipper's hands as the leader tried to fit this in to their puzzle.

"It's from the day of the murder." Skipper nodded absentmindedly. Kowalski put the book back in Skipper's hand and pointed a small spot near the top left corner of the page where the entry began, "What's that?" the dark red splotch stood in contrast to the bone white paper.

"Blood." Skipper said absentmindedly. The blood drained from Private's face.

"Blood?"

"His blood, whatever was on that page, the murderer didn't want us to see." Gloria sat down in shock.

"What kind of people are you dealing with here?" She asked Skipper in total shock of what his job actually consisted of doing.

"Just the usual people, mob lunatics who think they can murder willingly in my city," Skipper said with spite. The group sat in a silent thought so heavy that it seemed to hold the weight of the world and for Skipper that's exactly what it was doing. He got up and paced around the room. He paused by the window seeing the flood of yellow taxis flow like a river on the street below. And then it hit him. He looked at his boys.

"Skippah?" Private started.

"What are you thinking?" Kowalski added.

"I think I know who did it!" He said excidedly as he did whenever he figured out a case. It was so simple. He had been through something just so similar that it almost felt like that exact moment eig-

_BRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGG!!!! BRIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGG!_

The telephone rang and interrupted his train of thought. It rang again but no one dared to pick it up. Finally, with courage, Skipper picked up the phone and paused.

"Hello?" he finally asked.

"'Ello Skipper," Said the voice on the other end.

"You."

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DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!! So, is it the murderer or the kidnapper? what's going to happen to marlene? WHY AM I ASKING YOOOOOOUUUU ALL THESE QUESTIONS?!? hahahahahaha, well anyway, please r &r! I'll have the next chapter up as soon as I can. LOVE YOU GUYS!


	11. The Trap

HEY GUESS WHAT! I HAVE A NEW CHAPTER FOR YOU GUYS! ^_^... ok so I was originally going to make this chapter a really really REALLY long one, but I decided to brake it up into two separate chapters to keep things interesting... and to make the work load a little lighter for me and get the chapter to you faster! So here we go! CHAPTER 11!

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"You." Skipper said into the phone with a menacing tone, "Where the hell is she?"

"Who? You gotta be more specific mate," Said the voice on the other end.

"You know damn well who I mean!" Skipper near yelled.

"Your girl? Oh well she's right here," The Voice on the other end suddenly became distant, "Say hello to your boyfriend, sweetie."

"Skipper?" a woman's voice on the other end rang out, distant and scared; it was undeniably Marlene, "Skipper? Help please! It's-"

"All right, I think we've heard enough from you. Take her back in," Said The Voice on the other end said, Skipper could hear Marlene's frantic yells for help in the background, "I told you I'd get even with ya," the rage began building up in Skipper's body.

"Where the hell did you take her?" He said practically yelling in the phone, his subliminal verbal warning was ignored and answered with a menacing laugh.

"Oh, and Skipper? There's someone else here who would like to speak to you," This confused Skipper, he could think of no one-

"Hello Mr. Blake," A woman's voice said on the other end.

"Katrina."

"You were right, you're girlfriend is pretty. Such a shame though." Katrina said with a calm tone laced with threats of brutality and venom.

"What have you done to her?" Skipper said frantically.

"Oh, nothing…." Skipper almost let out a sigh of relief, "Yet."

"Where. Are. You." Skipper asked through clenching teeth.

"Well, that's not my place to say, hon?" There was a fumbling of the phone until The Voice answered.

"Skipper, I'll make you a deal." Skipper paused.

"What kind of a deal?"

"You drop the Riatonni case completely, you admit to your association with Moon Cat, you go to jail for a considerable amount of time, and you're girlfriend and boys go free."

"What do you mean my boys go free?"

"Well why don't you go look out your window?" Skipper motioned for one of the boys to go look out the window. Kowalski got up and peered through the blinds. Standing at the bottom of the building at the entrance door were two well dressed young men with armbands and tommyguns. In the street there was a black Lincoln with two more men dressed and armed in the same fashion.

"They're armed," Kowalski said defeated.

"And I've got some more in the back, there's no escaping here."

"You've really had some time to think about this, haven't you?"

"I've had a lot of time to think about this, you should know. Anyway, you agree to these conditions and I'll let your girl and your boys go free. Give me an hour to call off my boys and you'll be free to leave your apartment. Do we have a deal?" Suddenly Marlene's voice was faintly heard on the other end.

"DON'T DO IT SKIPPER!" She screamed.

"Will someone shut her up?" The Voice said with the same eerie calm feeling that Katrina had spoken with earlier, "I'll ask again Skipper, do we have a deal?" Skipper paused for a considerable amount of time and listened.

"No," he said finally.

"You're funeral," The Voice said. Suddenly more of Marlene's desperate cries for help started ringing out through the phone. Skipper was completely loosing it. Just then The Voice came back, "And her luck as well, good luck." With that The Voice hung up the phone leaving Skipper standing in his living room. The phone dropped from his hand to the carpet floor with a small pound.

"Skippah?" Private was the first to speak, "Where are they?" Skipper could barely speak.

"I-I don't know," He said as if he was having some out of body experience that would provide for this to just be a dream; a horrific, terrible, impossible dream. He was sure to wake up soon. He clenched his eyes shut in an attempt to wake himself from the horror, but when he opened his eyes once more he was still in the same room with the same boys. The telephone was now on the floor spurting a dial tone into the almost completely silent room. Private stooped down and replaced the phone onto the hook.

"We'll find them, don't worry Skipper," Kowalski offered.

"NO! DON'T YOU GET IT?" Skipper said as he almost completely snapped, "WE'VE DONE EVERYTHING ALREADY! WE CAN'T WIN THIS ONE! THEY'VE GOT MARLENE! THEY'VE GOT OUR BADGES! THEY'VE GOT EVERYTHING!" Skipper looked at the frightened group, "They've got everything," he said a little quieter. Rico stood up and headed to the door, "Where are you going?" Skipper asked the way a commanding officer would ask. Rico mumbled something looking at Skipper, then to the window, out the door, at the boys and then back at Skipper.

"Rico's right, Skippah" Private said with dead seriousness, "we're really the only chance Marlene's got."

"We're not letting you just give up on her," Kowalski said putting a hand on his shoulder, "And we'll be with every single step of the way." Rico nodded at the door. Skipper paused as he looked around the room at the faces of the boys who had been by his side through everything; the boys who had seen death with him and survived, the boys who had always been there for him. Skipper took a deep breath and tore into the bed room. The boys looked down at the ground saddened by their leader. But just then Skipper came back through the door into the living room with a gun in his hand.

"Well then let's get started," He said walking out the door. The boys followed him but as Gloria was heading out the door Skipper stopped her, "You stay here, leave the lights on." He said turning and going down the hall.

"Skippah? The lobby's this way…" Private said pointing down the hall in the opposite direction of which Skipper was running.

"I know, just follow me," Skipper said half-way over his shoulder. The boys just looked at each other but followed Skipper down the hall none the less. When Skipper got to a particular door he made sure his boys were behind him.

"Skipper? What are we doing here? We have to work on getting out!" Kowalski said.

"He's got guards at every door," Skipper started, "Both the entrance and the back door, probably the alley ways as well."

"And we're at this random apartment because….." Private said trying to piece everything together. With that Skipper smiled and knocked on the door. After a few seconds a young woman answered the door.

"Hello? Oh, Skipper it's you." She was young, around 30 with deep blue eyes. She spoke kindly with a strange accent, some odd mix of German and French. A few seconds later a small boy ran up behind her.

"Mama, she won't go to sleep," The boy said tugging on her skirt.

"I'll be there soon Moritz, try and put her to sleep." With that the boy sighed and marched off to the bedroom, "What are you doing here Skipper?" She asked kindly.

"Celeste, I need your help," Skipper said with a pleading voice, "There are some men after us and we need to use your fire escape." The color drained from Celeste's face with worry, "Don't worry, they're not in the building, they're down at the doors. Please, Marlene's missing and we need to go get her. I promise no harm will come to you or your family." Celeste nodded and let them in.

Down on the ground the men turned around with their guns pointed up at where the sound had come from. Instead of the agent they were supposed to be taking care of they saw a young woman simply opening her window and sitting on the sill.

"Not the one," One of the men said snapping back to attention. The other one looked at the young woman's window and then back at the one they were supposed to be watching. The light was still on. With that conclusion he snapped back to attention.

Back up in the apartment Celeste looked down at the men with the guns and saw them snap back to attention, she turned to Skipper and his boys and nodded. With that the boys quietly thanked Celeste and climbed out onto the fire escape with Skipper in the lead. As silently as possible they ascended the fire escape up to the roof. As they were climbing though Private's foot slipped causing a clang of metal on the fire escape, he froze as did all the others.

"Don't move a muscle, Private," Skipper whispered. With any luck their black suits would not be noticed in the dark of the night in contrast to the black fire escape. Skipper watched in horror as the men turned around with their guns pointed to the sky. Everyone stood frozen for a good minute, but to Skipper it seemed like every second was taking an hour. After a minute passed he heard the men mumble something and then turn back to attention. The team let out a sigh of relief and pulled Private up to the roof top with them. Kowalski looked around.

"Great, we made it to the roof top… now what?" The boys looked expectantly at Skipper who turned around in a circle, observing the area.

"Great, we're stu-"

"Shhhhhhh Private!" Skipper whispered harshly and then he saw what he was looking for. He pointed to the roof of a next door building and leaned over to Kowalski, "Given the trajectory… how fast would one have to run to reach that roof without falling to the ground?" Kowalski thought for a bit.

"I would say just a little over seven miles per hour… why-" As Kowalski turned back to face Skipper he saw something he had hoped he wouldn't. Skipper had backed up to the very edge of the building and took off running towards the roof. He zoomed past Kowalski at well over seven miles per-hour in a sprint, but for fear of giving away their position the boys didn't say anything. Just as he took off from their own roof he landed on the other in a dive roll and popped back up. Skipper motioned to the others to follow his lead. Kowalski and Private looked at each other fearfully.

"Well you go first," Private said to Kowalski.

"Uh… no, how about you go first?" Rico rolled his eyes and followed Skipper's lead, landing on the opposite roof just as his leader had done. He looked back at Kowalski and Private and did a sarcastic bow. Skipper motioned for them to follow. Kowalski sighed, "Let's just get this over with…." He paused and then let his long legs carry him into the same sprint and over to the other roof.

"Come on Private!" Skipper whispered harshly. Private paused.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph…" He said looking down at the ground below.

"You can pray later, let's go!" Skipper ordered. Private sighed.

"Why am I the only sane one here?" He asked himself as he too took off in a sprint to the other building landing as the others had done.

"Now that wasn't so bad was it?" Skipper asked patting the young Private on his back.

"I think I'm going to throw up," He said getting up on shaky legs.

"You'll be fine," Skipper said walking to the other side of the building as he began to descend the fire escape. Rico followed his lead and clapped Private on his back.

"Ow…" private said as he gingerly rubbed his shoulder following the other boys. Skipper expertly led him down the fire escape to an alley far away from The Voice's men. Skipper knew these roof tops well. He was born and raised in this area of Manhattan, this was his escape. This was where he originally had met Marlene so many years ago on her rooftop. It was now only fitting that the place where Skipper had often escaped reality was now the place for an actual escape.

Skipper peaked out of the alley way after each of the boys had made it safely to the ground. He looked left, nothing but an empty street illuminated by one old streetlamp. He looked right, the same. He signaled for his group to follow him down the street to a taxi that was sitting at the end of the street. The cab driver in it was asleep in his seat, slumping with his head hanging dangerously close to the horn and the window wide open. Rico walked around to the other side and gently pressed the driver's head against the horn. A quick beep was followed by a really frazzled driver looking around frantically, his eyes fell on Rico and he glared.

"What the hell!" The driver said rather loudly.

"They probably heard that. We need to get out of here now," Skipper jumped into the back with Kowalski and Private and motioned for Rico to go around and get in on the passenger's side, "We need to get to this address, as fast as you humanly can." He handed the driver a sheet of paper with the address of the butcher shop.

"Buddy, you expect me to drive-" and then they heard yelling coming from around the corner.

"You get us there as fast as possible without getting us caught and you get to keep your life, got it?" Skipper said as he saw the headlights from the black Lincoln around the corner turn on and the car roar to life. The cabbie didn't need any other incentive to take off down the street in the opposite direction from which the Lincoln was coming.

As the taxi passed over the 59th Street Bridge Skipper looked at his watch, they had been driving for nearly twenty minutes. On the one hand Skipper was thankful that he lived quite close to the Hudson and the Bridge as well; on the other hand that was twenty minutes that he could have been helping Marlene.

"Can this thing can go any faster?" He asked frantically. The cabbie shook his head.

"Gotta obey the street signs." There was a pause.

"I'll pay you double what the cab fare is if you get us there as fast as you can." With that the cabbie stepped on the gas pedal propelling them faster at a much faster speed. Private looked out through the window in the very back of the car to see if the men were coming after them. He had been doing this periodically throughout the car ride. There was something in his gut that was overly paranoid.

"Private, will you stop it!" Kowalski pleaded, "They're not back there. We lost them at least five miles back."

"I know," Private said sitting back down in his seat, "I just have this weird feeling like something bad is going to happen."

"Pray that it doesn't" Skipper said looking out the window at the passing Hudson river.

The cab sped along the streets of Queens, the passengers inside taking on a silence that you could cut with a knife. As they neared the address Skipper thought about how exactly this would work.

"Turn off your lights," He said to the cabbie.

"I won't be able to see shit it the road then!" The cabbie said harshly.

"Turn them off now, unless you want to be shot." With that the cabbie begrudgingly turned the lights off, "and drop us off a couple blocks away." Not long after he had turned the headlights off, he stopped the cab along a quiet street and turned around to face Skipper.

"About my pay?" Skipper dug into his wallet and pulled out a couple hundred dollars that he had usually kept for emergencies. If there was any time to use it, it was now. With the money exchanged Skipper and the boys got out of the cab and watched it speed down the street. Skipper looked at the address on the paper and up at the street sign, they were about one block away from the butcher shop… from Marlene. Skipper didn't say anything he simply motioned for the boys to follow him. As they were walking they heard the sound of a car coming around the block. Without thinking the boys jumped into an alley way, letting their black coats and pants blend into the dark brick of the buildings. Just as Skipper expected, a black Lincoln, the same one they had seen at the apartment, slowly rolled around the corner. The headlights gave off the only other light on the street beside the dull streetlamps. As it rolled past them everyone let out a sigh of relief. Skipper poked his head outside the alley to see which way the cab was turning; when he saw the cross streets he went the opposite way.

"Don't tell me we're going around the back again," Private whined. Skipper glared at Private.

"Sure, let's just waltz into the front door and say, 'oh hello there we're here to pick up Marlene, so if you would be so kind as to give her back,' we'd be dead before we even got to her." The boys got up and went after Skipper who tore off around the corner. Private noticed something odd though, seeing as he was in the back of the group. It seemed that once the boys had gotten around the corner the footsteps of his comrades had stopped suddenly. Private cautiously worked his way around the corner and the second he stepped around the corner he suddenly realized why the footsteps had stopped. Before he could even think his arms were forcefully pulled behind his back and duct tape was put over his mouth. He looked around as soon as he got a chance. All he managed to see were five large men and his comrades trapped the same way that he was trapped. He looked at all of them and immediately knew that they were all thinking the same thing: How on earth did we fall into a trap like this?

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YAY! ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER! Hey, I said I was dividing the super long chapter up... so what better way to end this specific chapter with another cliff hanger! This was pretty much just a transition chapter, next chapter the real action starts and the identity of The Voice will be REVEALED! So add, R&R and tune in next time! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *cough cough*... ok, we're done here.... R&R!


	12. The Fight

BONJOUR EVERYONE! Don't worry i haven't forgotten you. i've spent the past few months in France and while I haven't been able to upload anything, I'm very proud to say that here's the chapter you've all been waiting for. SO HERE WE ARE: CHAPTER 12 OF AINT NO REST FOR THE WICKED!

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They had been blindfolded and practically dragged down the alley. Skipper listened closely to his surroundings as the man behind him forced him down what he thought was another alleyway, the cold concrete tapping beneath his forced strides. He could hear the faint mumbling of laughs and voices coming from up ahead. Suddenly he felt the rush of something by his leg, followed by the sound of a metal door being kicked open. Suddenly all the laughing stopped, except for one person. Skipper felt his body being pushed forward through the door, the cold night air was replaced with the warm damp air of what Skipper assumed was the butcher shop the team had previously tried to get into; a small cool breeze came from his right. Skipper and the rest of the team were thrown down to their knees in front of whoever was laughing. Skipper could hear the others struggling to release themselves from their bonds, but Skipper knew better than that.

"Well well well," Said The Voice, "Look what the night brought out." With that Skipper felt a cold hand grab the blindfold and tear it off. Skipper was finally face to face with the person he had been after for the past months, the person who killed Mad Rat Riatonni, the person he thought he put away for good; none other than the leader of the Gypsy Jokers himself, Joey Anderson. In the years since Skipper had last seen Joey, he had not changed much. He was a tall man, much taller than Skipper, at about six foot six head and shoulders. He had brown hair that was combed back in a stylish fashion, much neater than Skipper's messy black hair and bright green eyes like cold emeralds. Before prison Joey had a strong build, that of a boxer; but now his build seemed even bigger than Skipper had remembered.

Skipper did nothing but glare at the Australian man. Joey gave him a cruel smile and blew smoke from his cigarette in his face. Skipper merely turned away and did his best not to cough, "You certainly have fallen a few notches since our last meeting." He waited for Skipper to retaliate with something witty or smart, but instead the captured man said nothing due to the duct tape around his mouth, "Nothing to say?" Joey said leaning toward Skipper's face, "Come now, why don't you tell us what you're thinking," and with that he ripped the duct tape off of Skipper's mouth.

Without warning Skipper spat right into Joey's face, sending him reeling backwards wiping his face with his free hand. He looked at his hand and laughed. Skipper could tell that the time he had spent inside that prison had messed with his mind. He wasn't as sane as he used to be and in Joey's case that made him even more dangerous than before.

"Real creative there mate," Joey said with a slight laugh as he stared Skipper down, "Got anything better to say?"

"Where the hell is she?" Skipper said with venom and hatred.

"Tsk Tsk, Skipper, you know better than to ask vague questions. I thought you were a detective," Joey pause, "Oh that's right, he got his badge taken away, didn't he love?" Joey said over his shoulder. From the shadows emerged the blond haired vixen that caused all of this misery, Katrina. Her emerald eyes shone with particular mischief and a greedy pride that Skipper could not pin. She smiled; her bright teeth gleamed in the dim light like the psychotic smile of a Cheshire cat.

"Well he couldn't solve my case, though I think they could solve it now. Pity, you made him out to be smarter than that. In fact you made all of them out to be smarter than they let on." Katrina said with a mocking sadness though her grin still shown with an evil glint.

"When I left they were smarter. Now let me see exactly who we have here. I don't think I've seen these faces before." It was true. When Joey had last met with his foe, Skipper had yet to meet his current friends; he had yet to have the taste of war stain his mouth. And yet, these past years had not left Joey to be a fool. Since Skipper came back to New York, every case and criminal Skipper and his boys solved and caught, Joey read about it in the paper. Joey walked past Skipper to Kowalski and ripped off his blindfold, "Let me guess. . . Eli Kowalski, one of the brilliant minds behind the Manhattan Project no doubt," Joey continued his walk down the line to Rico. He took another puff of his cigarette before removing Rico's blind fold, "Rico Flintlock, arsenal and demolition specialist. Best in your division, they say. But nothing but a mute pyromaniac from what I hear of your previous record." And finally Joey came to their smallest member, Private. Skipper watched in horror as Joey tore off the blindfold and smiled a cruel and cunning smile. Skipper worried for their youngest member as Private had never faced the likes of this Joker, "and you must be Peter Barry, from the Queen's Country, do you have anything to say about this?" Joey said. He then tore the duct tape off of Private's mouth.

"We will stop you, you. . . you piece of shite!" Private said defiantly.

"Stop me? Piece of shite?" Joey said with a laugh. He turned to Skipper and said, "Out of all the foreign entities you could have brought back you come home with a Brit, fresh out of the University! He's probably barely seen the light of day on the battle field!" Joey turned back to Private, "You listen to me, if anyone here is a piece of shite it would be you dear boy. You abandoned your own country to come to this god forsaken land of lost opportunity to follow the likes of this coward." He gestured toward Skipper

"Private, don't listen to him." Skipper said seriously. He knew Joey was a crafty man; he could warp and twist the minds of the innocent to bow to his needs. He could talk any one out of or into anything.

"And not only a coward," Joey said ignoring Skipper completely, "But a man only bent on his own selfish needs. He dragged you into this. And for what? For your benefit? No, to save his own girl."

"We never go alone!" Private said trying to prove a point while the finer aspects of this internal argument between what Joey was saying and what he was taught waged war inside his head.

"What a silly idea," Joey said puffing at his cigarette one more time before flicking it on the ground in front of Private and stepping on it with the toe of his shoe, "You risk your neck, not for your own sake but so that someone else can prosper selfishly. How adorable." Joey turned around to consult a member of his crew. The young Joker walked off behind the boys to the source of the only cold air in the building, the cooler. Joey continued to talk in a hushed tone to his other cronies before one of them handed Joey something wrapped in a brown fabric. Joey looked down at the small bundle and smiled as he pulled a German Luger pistol from its confines. He did not look at the boys but rather over their heads and smiled sadistically.

"Ow! LET ME GO!" said a frantic female voice. Skipper didn't even have to turn around to know that it was Marlene. Regardless he still turned around to see Marlene, shivering and pale, being dragged out of the cooler. She was thrown at Joey's feet.

"Well hello there, miss!" Joey said with a crazed look in his eye and a psychotic smile on his face, "and how are we doing this fine evening? Comfy? Cozy?"

"Let me go this instant!"

"But my dear that would be very counterproductive, don't you think?" Joey said cocking the gun. Joey grabbed Marlene's hand and pulled her close to him, turning her around to face Skipper and the rest of the boys. He laughed a snide and sinister laugh as he whispered something along the lines of, "don't be scared," to Marlene. Skipper struggled in his restraints as if he meant to kill Joey right then and there.

"Leave her alone!" Skipper said through gritted teeth. Joey just smiled and pointed the gun at Marlene.

"I might, but first I want to know how you got this far without giving up, how you pieced this together."Skipper didn't speak for a while, "Oh come now Skippy you think that by staying silent you're helping her," Joey cocked the gun and brought it closer to Marlene's head, "But you're wrong."

Just then Skipper felt the rope around his wrists loosen just slightly. No matter how, "intelligent" this crew of mobsters was, their knot work left a lot to be desired. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at his counterparts. Kowalski, who was right next to him saw the look in his eye and wiggled his wrists as well, discovering that the same instance was happening with his own rope. Rico and Private followed suit. As soon as they knew that they could free themselves Kowalski looked back at Skipper, who smiled.

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about," Skipper said smugly. Marlene stared at him wide-eyed as the gun moved closer.

"Oh I think you know exactly what I'm talking about Skipper."

"Nope! We haven't the slightest clue," Kowalski added. Rico and Private nodded fervently as well. Joey glowered at them.

"Tell me right now! If you don't care about yourself at least care about your girl!" The silence in the room was heavy, "Well then I guess you don't care." Joey said with a smile equivalent to that of a psychotic circus clown.

" FINE!" Skipper said, "All I had to do was-" He paused with Joey hanging on his every word, "Think fast." And with that Skipper dropped to his back and swiped Joey's legs out from under him. Joey fell to the floor and the gun went flying across the room. Marlene scrambled away as fast as she could into Skipper's now outstretched arms. Kowalski, Rico, and Private were also now standing beside Skipper. He handed Marlene over to Private, "Get her out of here!"

"But-" Private began to protest, but Skipper would not hear any of it.

"That's an order Private!" Skipper said quickly as Joey was recovering from his fall. Private did not hesitate and took Marlene's wrist, pulling her in the direction of the door. None of Joey's cronies went after them, for a burly bunch they weren't too bright and were waiting to see what their leader would do. Joey pushed himself up onto his hands and started laughing to himself again.

"Alright," He finally said to the floor, though anyone looking on the scene could tell that he was talking to Skipper, "You want to play that way? Fine, I've been playing that way for the last eight years." Suddenly he turned his head to look Skipper straight in the eye, "Eight years!" He said as he pushed himself up onto his feet. He turned and walked to the back of the room, his men parted like the Red Sea, not daring to get in his way. Joey rested his weight on the table and stared at it. Skipper didn't dare move fearing that Joey was unstable and upset enough as it was.

"Joey," Skipper said carefully, using his first name in an almost caring way, "We don't want any trouble. We don't want to get hurt and you don't want to get hurt. Just let us go, it's no matter to you if we go or not." There was silence from Joey. Skipper turned around and began walking away, suspecting his foe's acceptance of his proposal. Suddenly the sound of Joey's maniacal chuckle echoed through the room with an eerie chill, stopping Skipper dead in his tracks.

"You know," Joey said not turning around to face Skipper, "If it was anybody else, I would kill them in an instant; wouldn't even have to think about it." Skipper turned around to look at the maniac, "But you, you're different. You deserve to suffer. And I'm really going to enjoy this." And with that Joey quickly turned around and swiped at Skipper with a saw from the butcher table. Skipper dodged out of the way of the sharp blade just in time. He saw the gun lying on the ground just a few feet to the left of him and tried to go for it, but there was Joey standing right in the middle of his path, "Do you know what it's like Skippy? Being shut off from everything around you, being locked in the dark?"

"No," Skipper said as he dodged another swipe from the saw and tumbled back the other two teammates who were willing to fight right by Skipper's side, "I can't say I have."

"Well don't worry," Joey said holding the saw in a menacing fashion, "We can remedy that."

"How so?"

"By locking you in permanent darkness," Joey said with a glower on his face, "Take the other two, but leave the short one for me." He said to the rest of his gang. The black arm-banded brigade fell upon the other two boys like a plague straight out of the bible. Skipper went to make even the slightest move to protect his friends but instead found a saw blade right in the middle of his path gleaming deadly sharp in the dim light. Skipper reeled back as Joey came at him with the deadly weapon.

They were prepared for this, more than Skipper and his team could have imagined. They came upon Kowalski and Rico ready to fight till the death if necessary. Pipes, chains, broken bottles, they were prepared to fight dirty. Kowalski quickly Looked around for something, anything, to defend himself with, out of the corner of his eye he saw the freezer door wide open. As he fended off another punch he found himself back to back with Rico.

"I need you to keep some of them busy for a while," He said frantically to Rico over the sound of clanging metal and the sounds of battle. Rico nodded. The second he found an opening, Kowalski took it. He dove out of the crowd of warriors and ran toward the freezer. It took a second for the Jokers to even realize that Kowalski had gone and tried to make a move after him, but Rico was far too quick and far too strong to get around. Rico pulled a small grenade out of his coat pocket, it wasn't enough to blow the entire place sky high but it could definitely keep them busy. He pulled out the pin and rolled it right under the middle of the crowd. It exploded and sent several gang members flying into walls and over tables.

Kowalski came rushing out of the freezer with a piece of sheet metal in his hand. Rico looked surprised, it wasn't very often, or even at all, that Kowalski would pick up such a primitive weapon. But then Rico noticed something; Kowalski was not touching the metal with his bare hands, but rather his hands had been quickly wrapped in some crude material to prevent bare skin from ever touching the frozen metal. He swung the metal wildly at people, the first instant the pipe collided with a gang member's head the boy collapsed to the floor holding his head and screaming as if the flesh were being stripped clean of the bone. Rico looked sideways at Kowalski not knowing for sure what exactly just happened.

"Chemistry, Rico," Kowalski said as he sent another Joker down screaming in agony, "Cold metal, when colliding with warm skin doesn't melt instantly." Rico realized what Kowalski was talking about. It was the same principle as when idiot kids in his grade school days would stick their tongues to frozen bars in the winter. You couldn't pull away or the bar would take some skin with it; and would hurt like hell for quite some time. Rico dodged out of the way as another gang member came at the two of them with a chain being swung around like a lasso.

Skipper dodged again out of the way of the saw blade. He was trying so desperately to get to that gun on the floor, but no matter what movement he made, Joey was right there, mirroring his every move. Skipper was forced to step back until he tripped over something that had been cast to the floor. He looked to see that it was a pipe. Quickly, and without much thought Skipper brought it up over his head just in time to block a blow from the saw. He pushed Joey back enough to allow him to get up. Joey came right back at him with the saw. It collided with the pipe in a burst of sparks and loud clangs of metal on metal.

The two fought back and forth, like the tides of the water in an eternal dance. Joey would push one way and Skipper would mirror his movements. Joey would swing the saw blade and Skipper would swing the pipe to block it. Suddenly Joey had Skipper pushed up against a table; he brought the saw blade over his head and brought it down with a mighty blow. Skipper thrust the pipe in front of his face and felt the slightest spark a light on his skin as the metal bit into the saw. Joey tried to push the blade closer to Skipper's throat but Skipper wouldn't let the saw blade budge from its position pushed up against the pipe. Joey leaned in close to Skipper.

"You know," He said as he continued his efforts to push the blade further, "You are the only one who is standing between me and my perfect life." The blade moved slightly downward, "Barry, Max, Reggie, even old Vinny, all are taken care of. I don't have to worry about them getting in my way anymore." The blade inched closer to Skipper's throat, "And once you're out of the way, I'll be running this city. And you will be nothing more than a little skid mark in my dust. "

"I'm not going to let that happen, mate" Skipper said _mate_ with particular venom; he would never let Joey run anything for he had ruined far too much already. With new found strength Skipper pushed the bigger man off of him. Joey came right back at him with the blade but Skipper was ready for him this time. With a few quick blows from the pipe and some footwork he disarmed Joey and chucked the saw blade far across the room. Joey then proceeded to kick the pipe out of Skipper's hand, leaving him totally defenseless against his giant adversary.

He turned his head for a split second to see where his weapon had landed, but as he was turning back to face his opponent he came face to face with Joey's fist. The blow struck him just below the eye and sent him reeling a few steps back. Joey smiled cruelly as he went to punch Skipper again. Skipper knew that he was no match for this man when it came to hand to hand combat. He was a boxer and Skipper…. And then it hit him; Germany. Skipper took in his surroundings and realized how similar they were to the time that he had taken down four Nazi's in Germany. He spotted the gun across the room, a small broken piece of glass on the floor, and the pipe above is head before creating his plan of attack.

Joey tried to strike him again but Skipper was one step ahead of him this time and jumped up to grab a low hanging bar over head. Skipper then sent a hurdling kick into Joey's stomach and another one into his face. Joey took a few steps back grabbing his face. Skipper took this opportunity to run and grab the piece of broken glass and the gun.

Joey stood back up; his face was blood streaked; his nose, broken from the kick to his face. But it didn't matter to him; all that matter was making sure that Skipper and his little friends were dead. He looked around the room to see Skipper running toward the gun on the other side of the room. He took off after him, ignoring the searing pain that rocketed through his face and body like wild fire.

Skipper dived for the gun and grabbed it. As his was turning around he saw Joey coming straight for him. As quickly as he could Skipper jumped to his feet and threw the shard of broken glass at Joey. The glass glinted in the light and Joey screamed out in pain as it buried itself deep into the flesh of his left forearm. Joey crumpled to the ground once more, the pain in his body now almost unbearable. Skipper pointed the gun at Joey, ready to pull the trigger. There was silence in the room, save for a few final punches between Rico and some other gang members. In the silence Joey had caught his breath, but was still cradling his arm like a newborn child. His hand twitched in a contorted motion. Joey looked up at him with poisonous green eyes and smiled that jester's smile.

"Shoot me," He said. Skipper hesitated, "Come on, be a man." Skipper then lowered his gun.

"Not a man like you." He said as he stared at the fallen Joker. Skipper walked past him without any protest from the gang members. The crowd of miscreants parted to let Skipper pass. Just as he was getting close to the door with Rico and Kowalski, it opened. He stopped dead in his tracks as a large gang member came in. Skipper hadn't seen him before the fight, or even during it, but his eyes began to widen. Behind this big gang member was Katrina. She had a cruel smile on her face, a gun in her left hand, and had Marlene by her hair in the other hand. And behind her, with head hung low, was Private. No one was beside him, handling him, he was just there looking as a man condemned to death.

"Put the gun down, Skipper," Katrina said. Skipper didn't move, he didn't speak, he just stood there dumbfounded. Katrina cocked her own gun and pointed it at Marlene's head, "I said put the gun down if you don't want to see your precious little girl here get her brains blown out!" Skipper cautiously set the gun on the ground and stood back up with his hands up, "Kick it over here," She said. Once more Skipper hesitated, Katrina then pointed the gun at him, "Do what I say or I'll shoot." Skipper did as he was told but then looked desperately over at Private.

"I'm sorry Skippah, I had to do it." Private said, not tearing his eyes from the ground to look at his commanding officer.

"Aw, isn't that sweet," Katrina said in mock sympathy voice, "wittle Private is appowogizing. I've got some news for you kid, it comes down to this: what a man does, and what he doesn't do." Katrina then looked back at Skipper with a crude smile.

"Why'd you do it?" Skipper asked out of the silence, "Why'd you choose Joey over your husband?" Katrina laughed.

"A girl's got to have what she needs. Vince, oh he was all good and fine. Treated me nicely, fairly…"

"Then why would you leave that."

"Let's just say, Joey gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. He gave me something that Vince couldn't really ever give me."

"And that would be?"

"Passion. Something that a man needs to thirst for. He was driven and confident." She looked over to Joey who was still sitting on the floor behind Skipper, holding his injured arm, "He was driven to get rid of you." She said turning her attention back to Skipper, "Just look at you. Helpless, hopeless, you have nothing to live for. You've got nothing. Your job, you're little girlfriend here, your friends, they've all gone away or turned against you." Each word felt like a deadly blow to Skipper.

"No they haven't," Said Private who was still looking down at the ground.

"Excuse me?" Katrina said looking back at Private.

"I said, no they haven't," and with that Private lunged at Katrina. The gun in her hand went off. A burning pain ripped at Skipper's arm light white lightning. He grabbed it tight and groaned in pain. He looked to see a dark splotch forming on his arm and he knew he had been hit.

Private managed to wrestle the gun away from Katrina. Marlene, who was now free from Katrina's grasp fought to bring the venomous vixen down as well. Kowalski ran to Skipper's side to see where he had been hit. The blood was seeping through Skipper's coat and trickled down his arm like water down the side of a rock. But Skipper could see, though Kowalski was partially in his way, that Katrina had thrown Private off and was now going for Marlene. Skipper couldn't bear it, he had to go help. He shook Kowalski off and ran to help Marlene. He pulled at Katrina's arm and managed to pin her down. Just as he was about to deliver the final blow to Katrina, he heard sirens from outside. They grew louder and louder and Skipper knew that Officer X and his brigade were on their way.

What seemed to be seconds later Officer X and half of the NYPD burst through the back door of the butcher shop, guns in hand. Skipper stood up and looked around, the gang members looked frantically for places to run, but there was nowhere to go. Joey too got up to his feet and back up again, but just as before he was a rat caught in the trap that way the efficiency of the New York City Police. Katrina managed to push herself up to her feet before a large cop came up to her and slapped a pair of handcuffs on her. Officer X surveyed the scene and saw Skipper and his team standing in the middle of it.

"You guys are good," He said in an almost defeated manner, "Real good."

"The best," Skipper said in response. He looked over at Marlene and, for the first time in months, she smiled at him.

Outside, Officer X had called an ambulance to come and take a look at Skipper's arm while the cops dealt with Joey and his crew. The bullet that Katrina had fired off had grazed Skipper's arm and had left a pretty hefty wound in it. The paramedic looked at Skipper who was only surveying the scene.

"You don't look very hurt," The paramedic said as he wrapped up Skipper's arm in gauze and bandages.

"Huh? Oh, well I've had worse," Skipper spotted Marlene to talking to one of the cops. Her eyes flicked over to Skipper's and caught them. Skipper smiled knowing that she was safe. Just then Officer X approached the ambulance.

"Is he ok?" He asked the paramedic who nodded.

"Yea, he'll be fine" Officer X nodded and dismissed the paramedic. He then turned his attention to Skipper, "So, what in hell possessed you to come out after Anderson without a badge, backup, or common sense?"

"He had Marlene, I had to do it."

"And how did you figure out Anderson was the one who killed Mad Rat?" Skipper sighed.

"In retrospect, every piece of evidence clearly points to him, but trying to figure it out on the way was a little more difficult."

"Examples."

"Well, let's start with what Alice told me. The two people that were leaving the apartment were obviously Anderson and Katrina. Anderson was spotted buying the gun at a Army surplus store from the deaf sales clerk who worked there, he made sure that he was deaf so his accent and voice wouldn't be recognized. Alice told me that Katrina had tried to be an actress, not sure how she didn't get cast in anything before, she had me fooled for quite some time. In the apartment we found drugs, that led me to have that conversation with Max, who supplied Mad Rat…. You never told me where exactly you got those pictures from." Skipper said looking at Officer X. He just turned his attention away from Skipper to Katrina who was being forced into the back of a police vehicle.

"Let me go! I was helping here!" She said frantically.

"Yea, sure sweetheart," said the cop who was forcing her into the back of the car.

"Katrina?" Skipper said bringing back Officer X's attention, "She was the one who brought you the pictures?" X nodded.

"Trust me; I know what you mean when you say that she should have been cast in something." Officer X said.

"Well, back to the case. Other than the drugs we found his wedding ring, a business card for the Lemur club and a piece of purple silk. Now we're pretty sure that Mad Rat was thinking of divorcing Katrina, that's why he took the ring off. The Lemur Club card proves that Mad Rat was a drunk, but it also ties him back to Max, who also supplies Julien. It also proves that he was unfaithful to Katrina as well as she was to him."

"And the silk?"

"Did you see Joey's tie?" Sure enough the mobster, who was being fixed up in another heavily guarded ambulance. The tie around his neck was of the same high quality purple silk.

"So the material was from one of Anderson's ties?" Skipper nodded.

"But that didn't solve it. You see, eight years ago when we managed to arrest him the first time, it was because we caught him down at the boxing ring after that match that he took a dive for." Officer X nodded, "He took the dive so that Mad Rat could win a crap ton of money. When Mad Rat didn't pay for bail and a good lawyer for Joey, he pretty much sealed his fate. Anderson's a very vengeful man, X."

"And that's why he went after Marlene and everything, to get back at you." Skipper nodded.

"Just tell me that he's going to prison for good this time," Skipper said looking at X.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about him anymore," X said with the slightest smile.

"I don't know, that's what you said last time," X let out a hearty laugh and slapped Skipper on the back before walking away. Joey, who was now cleaned up, was being walked to a police cruiser right by Skipper's ambulance escorted by several guards.

"Hold on," Joey said as he stopped and turned to address Skipper, "I have to admit, Skippy, you're a very good detective."

"Coming from you I don't know whether that's a compliment or an insult."

"Whatever you want it to be, but next time I wouldn't count on being so lucky." Joey said with a glare.

"I wouldn't count on a next time, Anderson." And with that Joey was shoved into the back of the police cruiser.

The cops all left and what was there before was left there was what existed before all this. Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, and Private, the boys of Penguin Operations Incorporated had solved another case with great panache. And it was only a matter of hours before the media got wind of this. Skipper sighed and looked up at the sky.

"You okay, Skippah?" Private asked resting a hand on his leader's shoulder.

"Can we just go home now?" Skipper asked with a slight smile on his face, everyone laughed.

"I'm sure we can." Marlene said and started to walk to where the cops had left a car for them, but Skipper stopped her. She turned around to face him. Skipper looked at her.

"Marlene, I know that these past few months have been a bit more hectic than usual, but," Skipper got down on one knee in front of her, "I still want you to know that I love you and I was wondering," He pulled Marlene's ring out of his pocket, "If you would still marry me?" Marlene pulled him to his feet and kissed him deeply.

"Of course I'll marry you," She said in barely a whisper. Skipper slipped the ring back onto Marlene's finger and kissed her again. Through the past few months Skipper didn't know if he was going to make it or not, but now, with Marlene in his arms and his boys by his side he knew that everything was going to be alright.

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THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! We've got one more chapter till the end and I am fervently working on that right now and will get it up to you as soon as possible. Please R&R... I miss hearing from you! PS, if you got where that "You guys are good, Real good," ... "The best" line came from, you are my hero


	13. The End

OH MY GOODNESS! I NEVER THOUGHT I'D GET HERE! Well folks, thank you soooooo much for your patience, here is THE FINAL CHAPTER of Ain't No Rest For The Wicked. Please enjoy

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Skipper tried to fix the position of his medal on his dark blue uniform once again. His arm had healed a considerable amount since that night so many months ago but he still kept a few bandages on it, just in case. And today he did not want any mishaps what so ever. He heard a knock on the door jamb. He looked up in the mirror to see Kowalski standing behind him.

"Everybody else is ready," Kowalski said, dressed in the same blue uniform. He tossed his hat up and down.

"I know, I'm just nervous about today." Skipper said leaning over the sink. Kowalski came and rested a hand on his shoulder. Skipper looked up and smiled at his friend in the mirror. Kowalski picked up Skipper's hat from the shelf and handed it to him. Skipper put it on and did one final survey in the mirror before turning around to face Kowalski, "Well? How do I look?" he asked.

"Exceedingly sharp sir," Kowalski said with a smile as he embraced his friend. Skipper walked out of the bathroom where his other two comrades were sitting. They were all dressed in their uniforms. Private's was the only one whose uniform did not match due to the fact it was a British Navy uniform and not a United States Marines uniform. Private was leaning back on a seat kicking his feet back and forth and staring at the ceiling. Rico was tossing his hat up into the air and catching it again, for probably the first time in his life, or at least in the time that Skipper had known him, his hair was actually combed properly. When both heard Skipper and Kowalski walking back into the room they turned to look. Rico whistled.

"Looking good sir," Private said with a smile on his face, "How are you feeling?"

"Nervous." Skipper said with a nervous laugh. Rico gave him a hearty pat on the back.

"Ready?" he managed to rasp out. Skipper took one more deep breath before nodding.

"Yes, I'm ready." He said.

Minutes later Skipper was standing that the altar. He looked out at the crowd of people. He could see Officer X sitting near the middle. Not far behind him going unnoticed was Max, he was sitting among the general guests for the first time as a clean man, his twitch had gone away and he felt better than ever. Over in the corner Skipper could see some of his old friends from the service, Manfredi and Johnson were sitting side by side; Mandfredi had a bandage wrapped around his head and Johnson had his arm in a sling, they were both injured from some recent misadventure but still managed to come see their old military friend. Next to the two injured soldiers was Skipper's old commanding officer Buck Rockgut, he was sitting calmly with his arms crossed across his chest. On the left side of the church was Skippers family, there was barely a man on that side of the church without a uniform on. On the right side was Marlene's family, which was considerably less uniformed and much more colorful than Skipper's family was expecting. Quiet music began as the parents of the bride and groom came into the church to be seated.

Skipper's parents were seated in the front row. Ace Blake wore a similar uniform to his son's, although it was from World War 1 it was still in near perfect condition with the metals gleaming in the light. He was an aging man, that was for certain, but he aged well and had many stories to tell. Skipper's mother, Maria Blake sat next to her husband with a smile on her face; she wore a modest dress of blue silk as it was Skipper's favorite color. He could clearly see the wrinkles on her face from where he was standing, but her eyes shone of a youth that had not left.

Marlene's mother, Janet, was seated in the front row as well. To her left was another seat, left empty for now. She was a lovely woman, not as old as Skipper's mother, with brown hair and warm brown eyes like her daughter. She was dressed in a long rose colored dress of some muslin material. Her brown hair was much longer than Skipper's mother, but it was pulled back in an acceptable fashion.

Suddenly the music changed from its almost silent background tone to a beautiful rendition of Green Sleeves. The doors to the church opened and one by one, each of Skipper's boys came down the aisle with a girl on their arm. Private came down first with Gloria, behind him were Rico and Carlotta, and behind them were Kowalski and Doris, who was allowed to come to the wedding after a lot of begging on Kowalski's part. Each of the boys bowed to their counter parts and took their places on opposite sides of the altar. Kowalski stood right next to Skipper, as his best man. Gloria stood closest to the altar on the girls' side as the Maid of Honor.

The music changed once more and every single person in the church stood and turned to face the door. There, standing in the doorway with her father by her side, was Marlene. Her face was hidden by a veil of fine white lace. As she walked down the aisle the train of her dress flowed behind her like a peaceful flowing brook. The silk clung modestly to her body and shimmered under the lights. Skipper could help but smile at the sight. Marlene's father walked her to the end of the aisle. Alejandro, Marlene's father, was also a well aged man. He was born in Spain but had moved to the states just before the Great War. He wore a basic black tux and his dark hair had been combed back. As they reached the end of the aisle, Alejandro raised the veil and kissed his daughter on her cheek before handing her over to Skipper.

"Take care of her," He said with a thick Spanish accent. Skipper nodded.

"I will," He took Marlene by the hand as she joined him at the altar, "You look beautiful," he whispered to Marlene who blushed beneath her veil.

The minister turned to face them. He looked at the couple and smiled before beginning, "Marriage," he began, "Marriage is what brings us together today. Marriage, that blessed arrangement; that dream within a dream, may the lord smile upon this couple and this blessed event today. You two have been through, heh, quite a lot in the past few months," The minister said with smile and a slight laugh, "But such is life, you will have your highs and your lows, your ups and downs; the important thing is to never forget your love for each other. There are things in this world that will challenge you, but those who love can walk through the valley of sorrow and make it a place of springs. When you two met as children on the roof tops of this city who would have thought that you would be here, nearly twenty years later, getting married. Please take each other's hands." Skipper and Marlene did so. Skipper turned to receive Marlene's ring from Kowalski, "James, please repeat after me. Marlene, with this ring,"

"Marlene, with this ring,"

"I take you to be my wife,"

"I take you to be my wife,"

"As my friend and love,"

"As my friend and love,"

"I will laugh with you and cry with you,"

"I will laugh with you and cry with you,"

"And be there for you always,"

"And be there for you always,"

"I will be with you through the good and bad times,"

"I will be with you through the good and bad times,"

"And love you always,"

"And love you always," and with that Skipper slipped the ring onto Marlene's finger and smiled. Marlene then turned to retrieve Skipper's ring from Gloria.

"Marlene, please repeat after me. James, with this ring,"

"James, with this ring,"

"I take you to be my husband,"

"I take you to be my husband,"

"As my friend and love,"

"As my friend and love,"

"I will laugh with you and cry with you,"

"I will laugh with you and cry with you,"

"And be there for you always,"

"And be there for you always,"

"I will be with you through the good and bad times,"

"I will be with you through the good and bad times,"

"And love you always,"

"And love you always," Marlene slipped the ring onto Skipper's finger and looked up into his blue eyes. She almost began to shake because she could not contain her joy. Skipper laughed a bit to himself. The minister noticed this and nearly laughed himself.

"Don't worry," he said to Marlene, "we're almost there." The minister looked at the two, "Do you, James Andrew Blake take Marlene Jessica Arrobal as your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

"And do you, Marlene Jessica Arrobal take James Andrew Blake as you lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"By the power invested to me by the state of New York, it is my deepest pride and greatest pleasure, to pronounce you man and wife. James, you may now kiss your wife," Skipper needed no other incentive to pull Marlene close to him and kiss her deeply. The minister looked out at the crowd, "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. James Andrew Blake!" the crowd erupted into cheers.

At the reception, family and friends intermingled on the dance floor, in between tables and with the Bride and Groom. As a deal, Julien had let Skipper and Marlene host their reception at the Lemur Club. Julien got up onto the stage and grabbed the microphone away from Darla who was singing.

"Everybody's listen up!" The band stopped playing and people turned their attention to Julien, Skipper hid his face in his palm.

"He's quite the showstopper isn't he?' Marlene said with a slight laugh.

"You have no idea," Skipper mumbled into his hand. Marlene merely laughed at him.

"It is now time to stop your pathetic excuse for dancing and get your booties up here to toast to the lovely bride and her husband. I need Miss Janet, Mister Kowalski, and Miss Gloria up here now!" Julien said in an almost bossy matter. Each one came up to the stage but just as Kowalski was about to grab the mic from Julien, he swiped it away, "But first I have something to say!"

"This can't be good," Skipper said quietly to Marlene.

"As is a tradition in my country," he jumped off the stage and walked over to Marlene and Skipper's table, taking the microphone with him, "We give the bride a flower," He snapped his fingers and Maurice wandered over from the bar with a vase. Julien plucked a beautiful pink flower from the vase, "This is the Indian Azazaleea," he said trying to pronounce the flower's name.

"Azalea, sir," Maurice said rolling his eyes.

"That's what I said," Julien added, "It symbolizes being true to the end, which you must do in order to make your marriage work." Marlene graciously accepted the flower and smiled, "And for the groom!" Julien snapped his fingers again and Maurice brought over a nice bottle of scotch, something that Skipper knew was hard to find, "A bottle of spirits, because when this one starts yelling," He motioned to Marlene, "You're going to need it to make your marriage work!" Skipper laughed and accepted the finely decorated bottle and thanked Julien. Julien ran back to the stage with his microphone, "And now, onto the speeches!" He handed the microphone to Kowalski who took it and gave Julien a strange look as he walked off. Kowalski looked at Skipper and Marlene and smiled.

"Skipper, Marlene, I've know you guys for a long time. Marlene, I didn't know you both that well when we were in high school, but the day that you moved into the apartment with Skipper and I after graduation I got to know you… quite well," He laughed a bit, "You wrote us letters and sent us packages while Skipper and I were at military school, you helped me when my mother passed away, you've been such an amazing person and most of all you've been extremely patient with Skipper, something that most people couldn't do. Skipper and I have seen things that most people should ever see in their life time, but when I look at you two, I could not find a more perfect match and I know that there is good in the world. Marlene, Skipper, I love you both," he raised his glass, "To the newlyweds!" The crowd raised their glasses and drank. Janet was up next.

"Skipper, when I first met you, you were this little eight year old kid with a big smile and an even bigger heart. You have been there for my daughter for as long as I can remember, and I could not think of a better match for her. Marlene, when you first introduced Skipper for me, although you were both very young, I could tell that he was the only one for you. I've been married now for almost thirty years and I would like to offer some advice; never stop being friends, don't ever go to bed angry at each other, overuse 'I love you' take in the small moments, but above all love each other with every fiber of your being. Marlene I love you so much, and Skipper, thank you for taking care of my daughter," She raised her glass, "To you both!" Gloria took the mic from Janet.

"Well I have no idea how I'm supposed to top that one," She said with a slight smile, "Marlene, you were my first friend in this city, you reached out to me when no one else would and you are the best friend a girl could ask for. Skipper, the first time we met was… well less than perfect," Skipper laughed to himself a little bit as he remembered the mistake he had made when he first met Gloria, "For those of you who don't know, Skipper thought I was the house keeper, after I threw a bucket of water on him he discovered otherwise. But I've grown to love you. I would also like to give some advice for you both; do little things for each other, don't forget to love life, don't go to bed angry, instead you could be like my neighbors and stay up all night fighting, but love life just as much as you love each other. You've only got one life to live, so live it well. To Marlene and Skipper!" With the last toast complete Julien struck up the band once more.

"Before we get to some cake, who would like to see Skipper and Marlene have their first dance?" The crowd cheered. Skipper stood up and offered his hand to Marlene who took it. They glided to the center of the dance floor and began their slow and steady melodic dance. Darla sang a slow beautiful song into the microphone. Skipper held his bride close and smiled, knowing that everything was the way it was supposed to be.

In New York it was hard to keep things the same for long, especially for Skipper's field of work. Like Barry had said, wicked didn't sleep in this city. But love didn't sleep either, it kept things together; it fueled life and the city itself. Heroics were nothing without love. As the moon shone over the marriage and that joyful night, James "Skipper" Blake knew that after the honey moon he would be back in his flat, hitting the buzzer on his alarm clock at six am sharp, running a hand through his black hair, and getting ready for a new day. But that's a different story for a different time.

* * *

Well, there you are! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and my story in general. I Want to thank all my amazing reviewers for their support. and my cousin, who's wedding on the 8th inspired many aspects of this wedding scene. I hope you all venture out there and read some of my other work (except Forbidden Love... I'm not a personal fan of that story) and hopefully I'll be back with other stories in the future. I Love you all! Thank you so much.

Isabella387


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